One More Ride on the Merry-Go-Round
by Ms Orton
Summary: Sometimes a simple knock on the door can be life-changing. Post-series finale/Huddy.
1. Chapter 1

_So it's me again with yet another post-series finale fic. My Huddy mojo died after I wrote 'All or Nothing' and I reconciled myself to the fact that it wasn't coming back, then after a convo with a friend (she knows who she is) it resurfaced and kicked me up the bum, making me scribble stuff down when I should be asleep._

'_Finishing What You Started' is easily my favourite Huddy fic that I've written. It was really cathartic to write at the time too, but here I wanted to take a completely different approach to House and Cuddy post-series after all the crap that happened in Season 7 and 8. There will be a couple of similarities plot-wise that I see as inevitable, but, on the whole, this is an entirely new take. Obviously, because I'm writing it and because they're them, there will be a healthy dose of angst as well. You have been warned. ;)_

_Be really interested to know what you guys think. :)_

_Shore owns them etc._

* * *

Flopping down onto his sofa exhaustedly, House adjusted the lumpy cushion behind him and grabbed the bottle of beer he'd just set down on the coffee table in, absent-mindedly surveying the brunette and the red-headed woman raucously laughing together over a cup of coffee on his TV. In truth, he was glad to be home. Bringing the drink to his lips, he glanced around at the open plan space he'd been renting for the past eleven months since his second visit to prison, and sighed. There was no getting around the fact it was a mess. Dirty dishes lined the sink in the kitchen adjacent to where he was sat, his bed was still unmade from the morning, the covers ruffled into one large lump at the end of the mattress a few feet behind him after he'd slept through his alarm and woken up to find he was already twenty minutes for his job at the University library; meanwhile books he'd leafed through were stacked high on top of the second-hand piano he'd bought and squeezed into the corner of the living area.

In short, he had two options: finally get around to employing a maid to clean for him, or risk eventually being suffocated under a pile of his own junk. Resolving to make calls the following day, he lifted his leg and rested his heel on the edge of the table, just as he heard feet shuffling on the carpet outside his apartment door and then a sustained knock. Rolling his eyes, House was determined to ignore it. It'd either be someone selling something he couldn't possibly want, or, more likely, the old lady who lived along the hall had forgotten where she lived again. Again there was tapping on the wood. Realising Gertie, or whatever the hell her name was, wouldn't go away until he escorted her back to her own apartment, he awkwardly hauled himself to his feet and padded irritably over to the door, swinging it open exuberantly only to find a familiar man in his mid-thirties staring back at him eagerly.

"I told the agency I wanted a brunette," House cracked, smirking at his equally bemused, former employee. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Chase since he'd been let out. A couple of times they'd bumped into each other in bars in Princeton and briefly exchanged their own special brand of 'pleasantries', but a home visit after dark was something that was certainly new.

"Can I come in?"

Moving aside House allowed the younger man to step over the threshold, before closing the door behind him.

"I'd apologise for the mess, but I'm not actually bothered if it bothers you."

Silently Chase looked over the piles of books, clothes and crockery dotted around the apartment, and frowned.

"It reminds me of my place," he commented in his Australian drawl, almost to himself.

"With great responsibility comes a lack of domestic hygiene. We should go halves on a maid… You want a beer?"

"Can't. I'm working."

Perching on the arm of the sofa, House grabbed his beer again and eyed the man in front of him suspiciously. This whole out-of-the-blue visit was intriguing to say the least.

"So if this isn't a social call, then what?"

Folding his arms across his chest, the corner of Chase's mouth curved upwards into a mirthful smile, his eyes shining conspiratorially in way that jolted his former boss' mind back to the long-haired, young doctor, who'd turned up in his office thirteen years earlier, wet behind the gills but eager to prove himself . He'd always led him to believe that he'd got the job because his Father had made the call. As the puppet master this half-truth served the purpose of keeping his employee on his toes, of driving him to push himself to go the extra mile, but if House was honest with himself he'd seen the seed of something brilliant there when he'd interviewed him, regardless of the nepotism that was at play. Something that he, and the complications in the younger man's life, had nurtured over the ensuing decade. When he'd found out that Foreman had appointed Chase as the new Head of the Diagnostics department he'd felt a quiet, almost paternal pride in the achievement. Not that he'd ever dream of telling him that though.

"I have a proposition."

"I'm really sorry," House chirped back sarcastically, pausing to take another swig. "I've sworn off other men since Wilson and I went all Brokeback Mountain after the whole faking my own death thing."

"I need your advice on a case."

"So Luke is asking Darth Vader for help?"

The current Head of the Diagnostics department at PPTH smiled at the former, amused by the analogy.

"How about it?"

Silently House pondered the offer, and rubbed his aching thigh with his free hand.

"Where's the file?"

"At the hospital." Nervously the handsome, thirty-five year old squirmed around on the spot, nevertheless holding the older man's gaze. "You'd have to come in with me."

"Now?"

"Now," Chase confirmed, nodding his head. Across the way from him House momentarily considered the offer and then shook his head. Sure, he was intrigued by the possibility of letting his brain engage with something that wasn't as monotonous as cataloguing an endless array of antiquated books, but he was in no hurry to show his face there. Diagnostics, medicine, the hospital and everything else associated with it were in his past now. He'd come to terms with that after finally losing his last real tie to his former life: Wilson.

"No can do. I'm busy."

"Doing what?" he shot back, eyeballing the bickering women on the flickering television screen. "Getting drunk and watching re-runs of Desperate Housewives?"

"Women's beach volleyball is on later. I'm a big fan."

Evidently irritated by House's stubbornness to comply, Chase squared his jaw and let the air filter out of his lungs like a petulant child.

"Aren't you the tiniest bit curious about the case? Or is this pretending to be coy thing down to you actually being scared you've lost your touch?"

An awkward atmosphere filled the room, House's eyes falling to the floor as his thumb nail dug into the label on the bottle and scratched the glass underneath. Soon setting the half-drunk beer back down on the coffee table, he got to his feet and took a step forward; all the while regarding his former protégé confrontationally. For a split second Chase genuinely thought he was in danger of being punched, after all it wouldn't be the first time they'd come to blows, and then, just as quickly, his fear was allayed when a broad grin broke out across House's face.

"I'll get my coat, Skippy."

* * *

Noticing Chase becoming increasingly jittery and subdued as they walked into the foyer of the hospital and straight into the clinic, in turn House was becoming more and more puzzled by their apparent trajectory towards the Dean's office as he lumbered behind him, his head bowed down to avoid eye contact with any of the few staff who were still milling around that might remember him. He'd assumed that they'd sneak in, look over the file, he'd offer his advice and then go back home without much fanfare. Evidently that wasn't going to happen. Like the wannabe dictator he was, Foreman probably wanted to read him the riot act and forewarn him about what was and wasn't acceptable in his hospital.

Stepping into the office, he swore he saw the younger man gulp as he held the door open for him, apparent fear fleeting across his eyes. Before he had chance to question why he looked so pensive, Chase turned on his heel and practically ran from the office and back through the clinic, as if he was evading an imminent explosion. It wasn't until House turned back to look into the dimly lit room that he knew why, his jaw unconsciously slackening as he saw an all too recognisable silhouette standing by the windows with her back to him at the opposite side of the room. After tense moments of trying and failing to co-ordinate his brain and his vocal chords, he eventually found his voice.

"It's like I fell down a rabbit hole and travelled back in time ten years… You do know you don't work here anymore, right?"

"And we both know why that is," Cuddy replied coolly, still looking through the blinds and watching the leaves on the ground blow in the wind.

Sensing the thinly veiled anger in her response, any curiosity as to why he'd been brought there quickly evaporated. He'd daydreamed about seeing her again on so many occasions. Sometimes she slapped him, sometimes she simply cried, and other times he was the one who broke down, but now that it was actually happening, he wanted out. Being this close to her again was too much. He'd screwed up too badly for any of this to end well, and that was presuming she was able to restrain herself enough not to resort to violence.

"Whatever your plan is to torture me, I'm not sticking around to find out."

Just as he was about to turn away, she span around to face him, the animosity in her insanely blue eyes gluing him to the spot unexpectedly. Somehow she looked exactly the same and yet different. Sure she'd aged a little, it had been over six years since he'd last seen her, but this was something else. Something in the way she regarded him; a level of guardedness he'd never encountered before.

"Sit down, House," she requested bluntly, gesturing towards the chair at the conference table nearest to her. Unwilling to comply, he stood his ground.

"You've got an indefinite restraining order against me. I have no plans to go back to prison."

Holding his gaze, Cuddy took a step forward and tucked her hand into the pockets of her jeans, momentarily biting down on her lip apprehensively and finally showing a chink in her armour. For that brief second of vulnerability he couldn't help, but see how beautiful she still was. Disarmingly so.

"I had it dismissed."

"When?"

"Today."

"But that usually takes months," he rebuked dismissively. It was something he'd found out during his first stay in prison, after quizzing another inmate who'd been incarcerated after embezzling money from the law firm he'd worked for. The process was long, tedious and something that he naturally assumed Cuddy would never want to consider going through after what he'd done, therefore what she said didn't quite add up.

Torturously slowly his ex-girlfriend rounded the chair in front of her and sat down in it, crossing one leg over the other before responding.

"Unlike you I have friends."

Unable to bear the tension any longer, House was determined to get out there. His leg was beginning to throb and it was starting to feel like he was drowning in a pit of his own past mistakes, the physical reminder right in front of him making it all too painful and vivid to deal with.

"Well, as touching as this reunion was, I'm still leaving."

"I said, sit the fuck down!" Cuddy barked back loudly, the volume of her order making him visibly start.

Gingerly he complied, picking the chair furthest away from her as a token gesture, in case she'd lied to him and this was some kind of rouse to get him sent back to jail after all. Even if a small part of him refused to believe that the woman he'd known for most of his adult life would be that cruel, the truth was that they were in unchartered territory. The Cuddy he'd known as his boss, friend and then lover seemed like a distant memory: now they might as well be strangers. With bile rising in the back of his throat, he lowered himself onto the edge of the seat and hooked his cane onto the table.

"So what's this about?" he enquired glibly. "Your therapist thought it would be a good idea to come face to face with the jerk, who drove a car into your home?... Or have you just decided to get one of your former minions to bring me here so you can go all 'Misery' on my ass?"

Ignoring his tone, she collected herself and then began to explain the situation, rubbing a weary hand over her tired eyes. As much as he'd probably try to piss her off, she wasn't going to rise to the bait.

"My nephew was brought in as a patient here yesterday evening, and we still don't know what's wrong… He's deteriorating rapidly."

"Then I suggest you talk to the pretty, blonde girl, who dropped me off here."

"Chase and his team have been working non-stop on the case for the past 24 hours, and they're still no closer to figuring out what's going on." Agitatedly, she drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair and lowered her head to focus on the carpet. "It was his idea to bring in a fresh pair of eyes."

"But I'm not a doctor anymore."

"You'd be working with him as a consultant with no actual contact with the patient," she clarified. "Once upon a time this would have been your dream case."

At her reference to their shared past, House felt a stab of sadness and countered it by glancing around the room, distracting himself with the predictably drab and expensive revamp the current Dean had opted for yet again: more taupe, more esoteric paintings and small sculptures that were meant to demonstrate dependability, but actually came across as pretentious.

"What does Foreman have to say about Chase sub-contracting a consultant?"

"He's co-operative, as long as you don't destroy any hospital equipment and he doesn't have to pay for any help you offer."

In spite of himself, House actually laughed. It sounded exactly like the type of thing Foreman would say. In fact she'd probably quoted him word for word. Not amused by his mirth, Cuddy glared at him disapprovingly.

"And you and your sister are happy to go along with this?"

"To be frank, the thought of having you in the same building as us makes our skin crawl, but funnily enough we're prepared to do anything to make him better."

"And I'm supposed to do this out of the goodness of my heart?" he retorted, equally as pragmatically, reaching out to his cane and ponderously running his fingertips along the handle.

Instantly Cuddy snorted.

"Oh I know you don't have an altruistic bone in your body, believe me!" Eyeing him with evident disdain, she continued. "I'll make sure you're more than adequately financially compensated for your time."

Watching as she re-folded her arms across herself, something shiny contrasting against the black wool of her sweater caught his eye, and immediately made his stomach sank. Incapable of leaving it well alone, his natural response was to bring it up.

"Well, you could just pawn the massive rock on your finger." He stalled to watch her reaction, the tiniest hint of a suppressed gasp hanging in the air between them, before she quickly recovered and re-donned her poker face. "So who's the lucky guy? Gatsby?"

"My marriage and any other aspect of my personal life are none of your business." she replied measuredly. "In fact, after tonight, there's no reason why we should have to speak to each other again… If you choose to take up the offer, you can liase with us through Chase."

"And what if I don't want to?"

Cuddy shrugged casually.

"Then you can crawl back under whatever rock you came out from, and I'll find someone else who's not a violent junkie to solve the case... This hospital isn't the only one with a diagnostic department anymore."

Rendered momentarily dumb by her readiness to admit he was merely a possible solution to a problem, and one of many at that, he found himself wanting to personalize the conversation. He wanted to matter to her again, as ridiculous a notion as he consciously knew that was, and not just for his expertise.

"FYI I've been clean for two and a half years."

"FYI I couldn't care less if you've undergone gender reassignment, found God and joined a convent," his ex threw back without missing a beat, pushing herself forward in her seat to emphasise her point. "Are you going to do this, or not? I need to know now, in case I have to make other arrangements."

Realising he wasn't getting anywhere trying to initiate small talk, House threw his neck back and looked skywards, pursing his lips as he mulled over what to do. The easiest thing in the World would be to walk out of the door and not look back; to pretend that the whole incident hadn't happened, and go on with his stable, but bland existence. From his perspective that was the sensible thing to his tongue in his cheek, he looked back at her and saw her waiting impatiently for an answer, deep, dark circles under her eyes indicative of how worried and worn out she really was. How exactly was he supposed to say no?

"I told Chase I'd help, and I'm not going to turn down the money."

"Good," she responded abruptly, getting up, striding across the room to Foreman's desk and picking up a file, and then throwing it unceremoniously onto the desk in front of him. "You can start going over this now."

With that she blistered out of the room, grasping her handbag from the beneath the coat stand and apparently walking out of his life again without so much as a backwards glance over her shoulder. The door slammed behind her as she exited into the clinic like he'd seen her do hundreds of times before, except this was different. The woman who'd cared enough about him to save his ass on numerous occasions, personally and professionally, was gone. He'd known she'd find somebody else, somebody less damaged, less difficult, she had too much going for her not to, but the actual confirmation of that felt like a blow to the gut. While he didn't know for sure, subconsciously he'd been able to harbour a miniscule amount of hope that one day they could have some sort of reconciliation. In spite of everything that had happened between them, he'd wanted to believe what they'd had had been special to her, and not the prelude to something better and more permanent.

Clearly he'd been wrong.

With a sigh, he opened the file and tried to divert his attention to the matter in hand. Maybe if he could help solve the case, at least she'd hate him a little less.

* * *

Minutes later Cuddy breathlessly pushed her way into a deserted bathroom at the far end of the hospital, her legs threatening to collapse beneath her if she didn't sit down. Artlessly weaving her way into one of the cubicles, she flipped down the lid on the toilet and perched on top of it, craning herself forward and attempting to regulate her breathing, the lack of air reaching her lungs making her head spin, as the walls seemed to close in on her. _All because of him._

She'd imagined seeing him again so many, many times, practiced in her mind the things she'd say to him, the disgust she'd show if/when they finally came face to face, but she hadn't anticipated feeling like this. In fact she'd rarely considered how she'd feel at all. Every creation of it in her mind was about how she'd make him feel; how small, how sorry, how pathetic. And yet she was the one holed up in a toilet cubicle, fighting for her breath and shaking like a leaf.

She'd never expected him to seem so normal, so much like the man she'd fallen in love with once, instead of the monster he'd morphed into in her head; the one that had tricked her into believing he was something he wasn't: a man who, in spite of his shortcomings, could be kind, funny and even gentle. It was too confusing for her to comprehend, so she chose not to. There were other things for her to worry about. Julia needed her right now and she couldn't let her down if things came to the worst. As a doctor, House was capable of amazing things if he put his mind to it, nevertheless he wasn't a miracle-worker. If Chase, who'd become an exceptional diagnostician under the instruction of his predecessor, couldn't find a swift answer as to why her ten year old nephew had fallen ill, there was a good chance he couldn't either. She had to stay strong. Too many people relied on her not falling apart. _She had to._

Eventually her breathing slowed to a normal pace, her chest rising and falling regularly as she stared at the diamond ring on her finger, the thumb of her other hand easily spinning it around and betraying the amount of weight she'd lost since it was first placed there. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, and her time at PPTH one further still: so much had changed, and yet strangely so much had stayed the same.

Unhooking her necklace from behind her hair, she removed the ring and threaded it on, placing it back around her neck and tucking it under her sweater, before leaving the cubicle and heading over to the sink, her hand fumbling in her bag as she detachedly regarded her own reflection in the mirror and saw that she looked just as tired and worried as she felt. Finally clasping the cylindrical bottle from amongst her keys and purse, she popped the lid and poured a small white pill into her hand, then turned on the tap and swallowed it down with the water she cupped in her palm, wincing a little at the slightly bitter aftertaste. Slowly she closed her eyes and braced her hands either side of the sink.

"Everything's going to be ok."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so, so much to everybody who read, favourited and alerted this story, but a special thanks to all of you who took the time to leave me a review. I wasn't sure if people would be interested in another story, but the response was overwhelming. You're brilliant! :)_

_I know you guys have a ton of questions about what's happened since they last saw each other. All will be revealed, but not necessarily in this chapter. :P Love reading your theories though! _

_Also my apologies if some of the medical aspects of this chapter don't add up to those of you in the know. I tried to get it right, but there might be some inaccuracies._

_Nope. Still not mine._

* * *

To say that he was tired was an understatement. Even if he was used to long periods of sleeplessness because of the pain in his leg, these days at least he got to rest. Stamping books and hanging around in the University archives wasn't exactly mentally or physically taxing, nor did it require him to be awake for forty hours straight, barring the snatched twenty minute naps he'd caught here and there. At the same time, House felt oddly energised. After losing Wilson and going back to prison, boredom had become a part of his life that he'd slowly learnt to accept. That was his penance for his past mistakes. Like Sisyphus, day after day he'd roll the boulder to the top of the mountain only to watch it roll back down again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

But what else was he supposed to do?

When he and his best friend had set off on their last adventure, he'd still been jubilant over the fact he'd chosen life over death in a burning building. Quickly reality had set in, and the optimism had faded. Not even a genius could get around the fact he was a Vicodin-addicted cripple with a terminally ill friend in tow, who'd have to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder. He'd stayed true to his word and been there for Wilson until the end, a small hospice in Alabama providing the backdrop for the last few days of his friend's life, and then after a dark night of the soul where he'd considered putting a gun in his mouth, he'd walked into the nearest police station and handed himself in. He simply hadn't had the stomach to keep on running. Now, for the first time in three and half years, he couldn't help but buzz with real purpose.

Blinking to clear his vision, he gingerly moved his feet off the arm of the sofa in the DDX room and planted them on the floor, glancing in front of him to see an equally exhausted Chase sat across the way with his head resting on the conference table, obviously half asleep. Smirking to himself, House reached down and picked something up, cupping it in his palm and then throwing it up in the air.

"It's kind of cute that you kept my balls. I had no idea that you and your ex-wife had a crush on me."

Unimpressed with the comment, Chase grunted and rubbed his hand groggily through his hair.

"I'm too tired to tell you to shut up… We need to figure this out."

"We have. It's Reye's syndrome."

Wearily the younger man sat up and shook his head.

"That doesn't explain the rash on his hands and arms, and the swelling around his lips and face."

"We know it's not menin…" Mid-sentence House cut himself off when the door to the room opened, and Cuddy stepped inside. Like both of them still wearing the same clothes from the previous day. Like both of them looking completely washed out. "And that's my cue to find a vending machine."

Hauling himself up, he walked towards the doorway without making eye contact and was about to cross the threshold when he felt a hand pressing firmly against his chest, the electricity of the contact forcing his head to snap up and regard the culprit.

"You don't have to leave," she murmered quietly.

"That's not what you said yesterday."

Looking past him to Chase, who sat watching them intently with his arms crossed like toddler engrossed in a cartoon, she suddenly became conscious of her hand still resting on House's chest and quickly dropped it, pressing her fingers deeply into her pocket. Thoroughly confused, her ex-boyfriend frowned.

"I've changed my mind. I'm sick of waiting around and doing nothing, so I'm here to help." Moving away from him, she walked to the table and sat down next to the latest Head of the Department, looking around at the space that was once all too familiar, before addressing him. "Where's the rest of your team?"

"I sent them home," Chase clarified. "They were exhausted and strangely they didn't enjoy constantly being referred to as Dopey, Dumpy and Idiot."

Maddened, Cuddy shot House a withering look as he sat back down on the sofa that forced him to defend himself.

"You expect me to learn the names of another batch of morons? It's not my fault Captain Boomerang here has a higher turnover of staff than I did." At the accusation, the younger man raised his eyebrows. Sure his former three fellows had all left, but it wasn't entirely down to him. Taub had gone back to plastic surgery simply because it made more financial sense with two young children, and Park had taken another fellowship in Washington. With Adams it kind of had been his fault. Stupidly he hadn't learnt the pitfalls of sleeping with someone you work with, even after the mess his marriage had turned into.

"And it would have killed you to be bearable for a couple of days?"

"If you wanted bearable you should have held a séance for Wilson, and asked his advice," House threw back, not exactly holding back his own irritation.

Incredulously she shook her head.

"My nephew's sick and you're cracking jokes?"

Again he opted to pour fuel on the fire.

"I'm pretty sure you didn't bring me here for my tact."

Just as Cuddy was about to respond, Chase stuck his hand in the air and drew their attention.

"Shut up! Both of you!" Shocked they both stared at him, baffled by the authoritative tone of voice. "This is my department now and I'm well within my rights to kick you both out, especially if all you're going to do is argue... It's not helping."

After a prolonged silence, the former Dean sighed and hung her head, catching a glimpse of House, who also looked suitably chastised, out of the corner of her eye as she did so.

"You're right, I'm sorry… Are you any closer to solving this?"

"It's Reye's," he chirped up, grabbing his cane and twirling it like a baton between his fingers. "The previous viral infection, the vomiting, the lethargy, they all fit."

"But that doesn't explain the rash or the swelling," she countered, echoing the earlier sentiments of the man sat next to her. "That's usually triggered by Aspirin, and I told her not to give him any after Joe's chicken pox broke out."

"You're certain?" Chase quizzed.

"I expressly told her not to give him any, because it was dangerous… She avoids giving them anything unless she absolutely has to anyway."

"And he couldn't have just found them and taken them?" House persisted, certain that he'd found the answer.

Cuddy shook her head.

"They lock all the meds away in the cupboard. They have to because of the syringes Mike uses for his insulin." At the back of his mind House vaguely recalled her telling him about Julia's husband suffering from Type 1 Diabetes and nodded, watching her brow furrow increasingly, before she worked up the courage to voice her concern. "If this is Reye's there isn't a cure."

Sensing the fear radiating from her, House squirmed in his seat. Any smugness that he may have solved the case evaporated when he realised the implications. There was a distinct possibility that if he was right, her nephew could be left with serious liver and/or brain damage, or even slip into a coma and not wake up. From past experiences, he knew the bearer of bad news was rarely thanked.

"The quicker we confirm this, the better we can deal with the symptoms."

"Meaning?" she pressed, sensing he was inferring more.

"Meaning Chase and I need to check the house for toxins, in case the rash and the swelling are important."

Straight away Cuddy's head vehemently flew from one side to the other.

"There's no way Julia's going to let _you_ anywhere near her home."

"It's better if two of us go," he insisted softly, looking to Chase who nodded supportively. "That way we're less likely to miss something… There's no reason she'd have to know."

"You want me to lie to her?"

He shrugged. It was certainly the lesser of all evils, and he could do without a slagging match with her younger sister that would just delay a diagnosis further.

"Or not mention it at all… Does it matter if it improves the kid's chances?"

Jadedly, Cuddy planted her elbows on the table in front of her and cupped her face in her hands, the dilemma evidently telling on her. After several moments of deliberating, she eventually sighed and got to her feet as the two men in the room looked on apprehensively.

"Give me five minutes to get my key."

* * *

They'd already been there for twenty minutes when House turned his attention to the bookshelf in the living room, and found himself staring at the one thing he could have done without seeing at all: Cuddy's wedding photograph. With his stomach tying itself into knots, he couldn't seem to look away. Standing under a canopy in her white dress, facing her predictably handsome and evidently Jewish husband judging by the kippah he was wearing, she looked beautiful. Their fingers were intertwined in a physical display of togetherness, and try as he may to find any insincerity in their faces as they gazed happily at each other, the mutual adulation appeared genuine. Once more witnessing this snapshot of her new life had made him question the soundness of agreeing to help with the case. At least resigning himself to not seeing her again had offered him some comfort. Whilst it was never entirely the case that she was out of sight, out of mind, time and distance had allowed him to focus his energies elsewhere. Now, however, the proof that she'd moved on so effortlessly felt like a kick in the nuts, no matter how much he reasoned with himself that she deserved to.

And yet something was bugging him.

Limping to the adjoining kitchen where Chase was searching through the cupboards, he leaned against the counter and cleared his throat.

"So what was the deal with Cuddy not wearing her wedding ring earlier?"

"What?" Not fully listening to what he was saying, the younger man continued to empty various cleaning fluids from under the kitchen sink.

"Cuddy… She was wearing her ring yesterday, and now she's not… Why?" He'd noticed it when she'd placed her hand on his chest, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt the urge to find an explanation.

"I have no idea," Chase answered unconvincingly, shoving his head further into the cupboard.

"You know something."

Pretending to examine the pipes closely with a torch, he kept quiet and pondered what to say, sensing his former boss' eyes burning into the back of his head. He did know something. He'd overheard Cuddy and her sister talking whilst he was checking on his patient, but that didn't mean he was going to betray their privacy, especially when House was the one pressing for information. Eventually he uncoiled himself from the enclosed space, and turned to look at House.

"It's none of my business. Or any of yours for that matter."

"Oh come on! It's not as if you still work for her."

Pushing himself to his feet against the cupboard door, Chase leant against the sink and regarded him challengingly. Of course his predecessor had that look in his eye. The one that meant his need to know something trumped everything else.

"And you really think that just because she's not my boss anymore, I have no reason to be scared of her?"

"It's not as if I'm going to say anything? We're not exactly friends anymore." He paused momentarily and scratched his forehead. "We're not exactly anything anymore."

"Then why do you care whether she's wearing her ring or not?"

House shrugged in a weak attempt at nonchalance. It was a pertinent question.

"I'm just curious."

Knowing that this was something the guy in front of him was genuinely struggling with, Chase let the air filter out of his lungs and dove in.

"You want my advice?"

"Not really, but I'm sure you're going to give me it anyway," the older man retorted sarcastically, folding his arms across his chest and craning his neck to the side like he was bracing himself for a lecture.

"I had a ringside seat for you two circling each other for years. Sometimes you brought out the best in each other, and sometimes you brought out the worst. But you went way too far after she dumped you… Don't risk hurting her again and hating yourself even more just for the sake of solving another puzzle."

"You think I hate myself?" His tone was cocky, but the expression on his face told another story. There was panic there, alarm at being found out.

"Yeah, I do… I know what it's like living with something you can't undo." Even though he hadn't been specific, House knew he was referring to Dibala. At the time he was aware it had cost him his marriage, but he had no idea that all these years later the incident still haunted him.

"Except I didn't fake test results so that somebody would die," he shot back breezily, purposefully wanting to direct the flow of the conversation away from himself.

Understandably annoyed, the diagnostician scowled angrily in his direction.

"No, you just destroyed your ex-girlfriend's home, and made her so frightened she felt she had to give up her job and make arrangements to move her three year daughter somewhere safe; all while you were sat on a tropical island drinking cocktails for three months… You really beat me to the moral high ground there, House! I take it all back!"

"Why are you so protective of Cuddy all of a sudden?" he responded, equally peeved and confused. As far as he'd known, Chase had been ambivalent to the whole thing. He certainly hadn't raised any objections when he'd returned to work after his first stay behind bars.

"Because I don't like seeing somebody kicked when they're already down." Instantly he saw House's forehead crease with yet more questions, and realised his mistake. "Draw a line! Just be happy that this time, _hopefully_, it's not going to end with you nearly killing her and her family." Walking towards him, he grabbed the spare torch from the counter and handed it over intending to draw a line of his own. "I'll take upstairs, and you can check the garden."

* * *

Gloomily House followed the winding path down the centre of the garden, his cane thumping down hard on the stone with each step, as he shone his torch from side to side. Being told a few home truths was never a pleasant experience, but being reasoned with by someone who was equally as messed up and nearly twenty years younger than him was all the more humiliating. Chase was right on a number of counts. He did hate himself, Cuddy's lack of a ring was no longer any of his business, and the common sense approach would be to just solve the case and get on with his life, no matter how hard he might find it to turn his back on a conundrum.

Reaching the end of the lawn, he looked around and pursed his lips. There was nothing there that could explain the boy's illness. Just the grass, a slide and the odd plant dotted around in pots, which he presumed a ten year old wouldn't be moronic enough to actually eat. Retracing his steps he wandered back and forth down the path and finally came to rest again near the bottom of the garden, frustration and the dull ache in his thigh making him lean backwards against the six foot wooden fence. Unexpectedly something moved. Checking to making sure he hadn't just imagined it, he nudged the bottom panel next to him with his sneaker and felt it give, falling forward and exposing a gap into the neighbour's garden that had obviously been concealed on purpose.

Muttering something under his breath, House dropped to his knees and awkwardly climbed through, hoping against hope he wasn't going to be greeted by an over-eager guard dog, or indeed the owners who'd probably be only be too happy to prosecute him for trespassing. Much to his relief, there was little there except for overgrown weeds and a small rickety shed reposing amongst them, with a makeshift path leading up to it. Slowly managing to stand up, he glanced over his shoulder at the rundown property behind him, soon satisfied that it wasn't occupied, and walked along the makeshift trail, soon reaching the construction and pushing his cane against the shed door, before watching it gradually swing open. Cautiously he stepped inside and shone his torch around the small space, noting the old cans of paint and tools on the shelves at head height. Taking a step backwards something bounced against the back of his foot and hit the wall behind him, veering off at another angle and revealing itself to be a soccer ball when he shone the light on it. As he turned around to investigate further, he saw the array of empty candy wrappers and comics strewn around the floor, one bare corner betraying where Cuddy's nephew had more than likely sat whenever he'd snuck in from next door.

And that was when he saw them. The tiny green pellets scattered liberally around the shed floor: rat poison.

"Bingo!"

* * *

_Just a note at the end here in response to a couple of reviews: people have one hundred and one different ideas about who to apportion blame to for the break-up and what happened afterwards, therefore I thought I'd lay out my own views, so some of you aren't surprised or disappointed when this story doesn't go a certain way. _

_Essentially they BOTH doomed the relationship to failure from the start, because they weren't prepared to be brutally honest with each other. House knew he needed to change for it to work, and Cuddy didn't admit that she needed him to. She set unrealistic standards for him to meet, but at the same time he kept on doing things he knew would piss her off. As for the debate about her dumping him over 'one pill', I think the groundwork for the break-up was already laid with his "You make me a crappy doctor" speech at the end of 'Recession Proof', where he forced responsibility for any future professional negligence on his part on her, therefore making any semblance of a work/home divide an impossibility. The 'one pill' was symbolic. Whilst I agree that Cuddy, or at least an in-character version of her, wouldn't/shouldn't have dumped him over such a seemingly trivial relapse, the threat of him spiralling back into using and all the things that that brings with it, i.e. hallucinations, Mayfield should have concerned her as a girlfriend and a parent. A relationship that requires her to worry about him, even when she's the one whose life is in danger, is imbalanced and untenable._

_I'm always going to be of the opinion that a person should be allowed to leave a relationship, for whatever reason they want to, without fear of reprisal. Whilst I completely support the idea that Cuddy is just as screwed up as House, (something which I intend to explore), his actions subsequent to the break-up were deplorable. The parade of hookers, the Green Card marriage and ultimately the crash only served as further vindication that she was right to leave him. I don't subscribe to a 'delicate flower' vision of House, who needs to be mothered, and who, because of his difficult and chequered past, has no real control over his actions. Taking the Vicodin when Cuddy was sick was just as much his decision as driving his car into her home, and he should have to live with that, even if there are potential qualifications to both instances. As a doctor he was shown to make sound decisions and judgements about his patients on a daily basis, and once upon a time, when the show still made sense, he was the one who had the strength of character to turn Stacy away when he knew the relationship wouldn't work._

_The way I see it, they BOTH need to change for them to ever have a chance at making a relationship work, but first of all House needs to prove to Cuddy that that act of violence doesn't define who he really is. That was my starting point for FWYS, and it's more or less my jumping off point here too. Of course people are free to disagree with my take on all of this, but I can only write what makes sense to me. _


	3. Chapter 3

_So here's Chapter 3 folks! Sorry I can't churn them out quicker. Life gets in the way and I'm a slow writer._

_Huge thanks to everybody who read, reviewed, favourited and put the story on alert. I genuinely love reading your comments. They just go to show what an intelligent fandom we were, when TPTB took us for morons. Shame really._

_There will be more about Wilson in later chapters, but first some angsty goodness. ;)_

_I don't own these guys. If only…_

* * *

In a near state of zombiefication, House hovered around the nurse's station, actively avoiding the fleeting looks of the nurse, who was undecided whether to move him along or leave him be as she sorted through patient consent forms. Either way he had no intention of budging. From where he was stood he had the vantage point of being able to see into his patient's room, his eyes locked on Cuddy as she hugged her sister tightly, pecked the cheek of her brother-in-law, and then bent down to kiss her sickly nephew on the forehead, her fingers delicately combing through his hair as she appeared to jokingly tell him to behave himself. After saying her goodbyes, she exited the room and instantly saw him watching her. For a split second she didn't move, evidently undecided about what to do, until she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pushed on towards him.

"Hi."

"Hi," House echoed, equally nervously.

"The brain scan looks good and the liver function tests came back looking promising… I hear you and Chase spent most of the night in the lab analysing the blood work yourselves."

"Well you can't get a decent lab technician in the middle of the night these days," he cracked. "Besides the Boy Wonder needed somebody who knew what they were doing to supervise."

Cuddy smiled amiably at the joke. Part of her felt sorry for the younger man, who'd probably spent hours subjected to the cranky jibes of the man stood in front of her. Part of her knew he'd probably enjoyed facing off with someone who was prepared to challenge him. If there was one thing House was, that was challenging.

"It looks like he's going to be ok... He'll be here for a while yet, but he'll be fine." She hesitated momentarily and forced her hands into her pockets. "Thank you."

Casually he shrugged his shoulders and looked away, pretending to watch a patient being wheeled into another room down the hall. The truth was he was embarrassed. Under no circumstances had he envisioned Cuddy thanking him for anything ever again. Gratitude was something he rarely responded well to in any case.

"Chase would have figured it out eventually."

"Maybe, but time wasn't exactly on our side… He's lucky."

In response House eyed her sceptically.

"Having a warfarin allergy AND developing Reye's isn't really that lucky, Cuddy… I wouldn't advise the kid to stake his life savings on the lottery when he's older."

"He could have died," his former boss said seriously, her gaze also demonstrating the gravity of her words. "I'm grateful… Julia would thank you too…"

"But she still wants to wring my neck," he interrupted breezily. "It's fine… I never really was one to wait around for thanks after I solved a case. They usually wanted to file a lawsuit against me… I enjoyed donning my red cape again for a while." He sighed and moved his weight to his good leg, drawing a concerned look from her and immediately wishing he'd stayed still. The last person he wanted to pity him was Cuddy. "Anyway, now that my work here is done, I'm gonna head home."

For want of a more appropriate way to finish the conversation, he awkwardly offered his hand out for her to shake and was greeted with a frown.

"I'm not shaking your hand, House."

Feeling like an idiot, he quickly pulled it away, muttering an apology as he turned to leave.

"Fancy a coffee?"

"What?" he asked in disbelief, swivelling back to regard her again and see if he'd misheard.

"I need some fresh air… There's that diner about half a block away. You're welcome to join me if you want… I'm going there anyway."

Before he consciously knew what he was doing, House's head was already nodding.

"Ok."

* * *

Taking a sip from his coffee, House quickly averted his eyes out of the diner window to watch the passing traffic, completely at a loss as to why he'd agreed to this and what the hell he was supposed to do or say now. Across the booth from him Cuddy stared silently into her own cup, her hands wrapping around it tightly, as if the dark liquid there was the most interesting and precious thing in the World. The atmosphere between them was understandably tense. Even the usually over friendly, middle-aged waitress had sensed the strain between them and had left her two solitary patrons to it after she poured their drinks, and headed into the back.

Essentially they were on their own, and that was what bothered them both. There was no case to hide behind, no concrete reason why they had to be in each other's company and yet they were. For some reason, unknown to both of them, she'd asked him to come with her and he'd accepted the invitation.

"You want something to eat?" Cuddy finally ventured, gesturing towards the menu on their table.

"I'm not hungry." The truth was at the moment he couldn't even think of food without his stomach churning over. Eating breakfast would probably make him want to vomit he was so uneasy.

Nodding in agreement, she suddenly seemed to remember something.

"Before I forget…" Pausing to search through her bag, she pulled out a cheque and pushed it towards him over the table, watching as his eyes lingered over the one and four zeros in the amount box. "If it's not enough…"

"It's more than enough, but I can't take it." Slowly he pushed the piece of paper back towards her.

"You solved the case. You deserve it."

"Deserve it?" House scoffed, not entirely sure if he hadn't wandered into a parallel universe. That she was prepared to hand over that kind of cash after what he'd done to her was utterly baffling. Perhaps she wanted to justify them coming into contact again as a simple transaction, but he couldn't do it. It wasn't even out of a need to do the noble thing, but rather that he couldn't bring himself to take the cheque home with him, no matter how much he really could do with the money. "That's a fraction of what you should have sued me for!"

Reacting to his words, Cuddy squared her jaw and looked away at the empty seats around them, her mind traveling back to the day her lawyer had called her to say House had handed himself in. He'd urged her to take up a civil case against her ex, to further twist the knife on top of his prison sentence and likely bankrupt him, because there was more than enough scope to do so, but she'd point blank refused to. That would have entailed a court case, and she'd had no intention of ever setting eyes on him again at the time. When she'd allowed herself to think about it, she wasn't even entirely sure if he'd make it out of prison alive with his wise-cracking mouth, but then again this was the guy who'd survived being shot, electrocuted and being in a huge bus crash amongst other things. Mostly she'd tried to block him out completely, with varying degrees of success.

"I'm not having this conversation here."

"And I'm not taking your money," he reiterated, his resolve plain to see.

"Fine."

Recovering the cheque from in front of her, she placed it back in her bag and the charged silence fell between them again. Agitatedly House drummed his fingers on the table, and noted her left hand was still without the wedding ring she'd been wearing two days previously. He could of course just ask her straight out why she wasn't wearing it, he mused, but that would more than likely result in her telling him once again to mind his own business and no doubt leaving. Instead he opted for a more subtle approach.

"So you got married."

"Yeah," Cuddy answered cautiously, her thumb unconsciously running along the ringless finger, as she tried to figure out where this was going.

"I'm happy for you."

"Really?" Her eyebrow raised in scepticism.

"That's what people say, right?" he shrugged. "I'm not exactly sure what the etiquette is in this situation."

"What about you?... Your Russian bride didn't stick around?"

Surprised by her question House took his time to answer, smarting at her highlighting yet another successful method he'd gone out of his way to hurt her with.

"That was never the plan… She got her Green Card and left. The divorce came through when I was in prison."

Seemingly processing what he was saying, Cuddy kept her poker face and lifted her cup to drink from it, her gaze drawn to a man holding a little boy's hand, as he happily skipped beside him on the sidewalk and burbled through a nursery rhyme.

"There hasn't been anybody else since?" she quizzed, still following the progression of who she presumed were a Father and son amongst the other early morning footfall until they turned a corner.

"There was a thing."

"A thing?" Again her eyebrow rose suspiciously.

House wasn't keen on clarifying, he never had been forthcoming at the best of times, but it wasn't as if it mattered that she knew he'd tried and failed to maintain a physical relationship with a woman he'd had little connection with. Going by the expression on her face in her wedding photo, her head and her heart were elsewhere. This was just small talk.

"She was just someone I met in a bar. It lasted a couple of months, but it was just casual."

"You had a casual relationship with someone?" she asked, unable hide her disbelief. The House she'd known was only casual about the time he rocked up to work. Even his 'attachments' to his fellows were intense.

"Serious doesn't exactly work for me, does it?" Glancing away when he saw her frown, he let his teeth graze over his bottom lip and inwardly reprimanded himself. Leaving his propensity for a grown-up, 'normal', long-term relationship open to debate was something he'd rather not have done. "Besides decent hookers are out of my price range these days."

Naturally, Cuddy rolled her eyes. Deflection was something he was a master of.

"Where are you working?"

"At the University library," he replied quietly, letting his index finger skim over the edge of the table. It was a humiliating admission considering the position he'd once held, but he was well aware that things could be much worse. "My parole officer took pity on an old cripple and got me a job there… I don't get access to student files, but as long as I turn up on time, they overlook my record."

"You actually go to work on time?"

"Mostly… If I don't they'll fire me, and I'll end up flipping burgers for a living. My new boss isn't as accommodating as my old one." The corners of his mouth ticked upwards cheekily, as he observed her stick her tongue in her cheek. "What about you? Still striking fear into the hearts of your underlings somewhere?"

Slowly she shook her head.

"When I moved I side-stepped for a while. Helped an old college friend set up a charity… Right now, I'm in-between jobs."

Made curious by the revelation, House pressed on.

"So where are you and the lucky guy living now then?" Straight away he saw the woman in front of him blanch, and instantly regretted asking. Why would she want to tell him that when she'd only just had the restraining order dismissed? Immediately he backtracked. "You don't have to answer that."

Uncomfortably she shifted in her seat and eyed the door. Just as he expected her to get up, make her excuses and leave, she opened her mouth to speak.

"We moved back here from New York about six weeks ago." She stopped for a second, her eyes beginning to look glassy as she attempted to stop the quiver in her lip, a deep intake of breath helping her to steady herself. "I stuck it out for a few months, but it wasn't the same after Jonathan died."

Her ex's jaw fell open in shock, almost in cartoon fashion.

"What?"

"My husband died, House." A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, which she caught with the back of her hand. "He went out for a jog one Saturday morning and didn't come back…. Massive heart attack. He was dead before he hit the ground."

"I don't know what to say," he responded honestly. A tiny part of him had hoped that maybe the ring had disappeared because the marriage had simply ended. It wasn't even a logical wish, he was under no illusion that he'd ever have a chance with her again, but he couldn't help it. That said, this was truly horrible.

"As long as you don't ask me how I'm doing." She half-laughed and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. "Nobody realises how annoying that is until they're the one surrounded by people who constantly look at you like you're about to fall apart."

"You should try being a natural jerk like me. Then people don't usually bother to ask." He grinned at her conspiratorially, and made her laugh again. Desperately he wanted to reach out and touch her hand, but knew it was probably too much. "I don't usually say this, mostly because I hardly ever mean it, but I really am sorry, Cuddy."

"Shit happens, huh?" she said glibly.

"Doesn't make it any less crap when it does…" Suddenly confused his brow furrowed. "Where's Rachel?"

"She's at my Mom's."

"Poor kid!" House shot back without missing a beat, a lopsided smirk making her jovially roll her eyes again. She'd forgotten how acerbically and yet charmingly funny he could be.

"You wouldn't recognise her now. She got big."

"Your Mom or Rachel?" he joked again, flicking a speck of sugar onto the floor. "It'd be a shame if Arlene had let herself go because I've gotta tell you, I had a soft spot for the woman."

Remembering all the times he'd whined about her Mother when they'd been together, Cuddy couldn't help but be amused. Ironically, she suspected he was double-bluffing. Up until things had gone disastrously wrong between them, she'd noticed the begrudging respect between her Mom and her boyfriend underneath the constant sniping.

"_Rachel _is bossy and opinionated too… She's nine going on thirty-nine."

"Like Mother, like daughter."

Knowing he was only playfully pushing her buttons, she grabbed her cell from her bag.

"You want to see a picture?"

Hesitating momentarily, House nodded. He couldn't deny that his interest was piqued. There'd been times in the past six years when he'd thought about her too, because despite his protestations to the contrary, he'd actually grown to like the little girl's open, friendly nature, and her willingness to engage with him when most adults would run a mile.

"Sure. I'd like that."

Swiping through her photos she settled on one she liked and handed the phone over to him, her fingertips briefly brushing against his in the process. Rather than draw attention to it, House focused on the image of the now not-so-little girl displayed in front of him. Caught as she was about to blow the candles out on her cake, Cuddy was right, he nearly didn't recognise her. She was tall, had long, dark hair that she was holding out of the way, and yet those blue, inquisitive eyes were the same ones he remembered. There was no doubt she was going to grow up into a young woman, who was equally as stunning as her Mom in her own way.

"She looks like a good kid."

"She is."

After noting the genuine warmth in her smile, House turned his attention back to the photo and observed the much smaller boy at Rachel's side, his hand pawing at her hip and looking up at her in what seemed to be adoration.

"Who's the brat stood next to her?" he asked quizzically. "Another one of Julia's rat pellet eating offspring?"

Cuddy bit her lip and shook her head.

"That's her brother."

"You adopted again?"

Once more her head swayed from side to side in staccato fashion.

"No."

Comprehending what she saying, unexpectedly House felt like he'd been punched in the gut. There'd been times in the past when he'd entertained being the one to give her a baby, the sole thing that had been so elusive to her, and then Rachel had come along and that need for a child had appeared to have been satisfied. He had no real right to feel that way, but the fact that she and her husband had rounded off their family with another child hurt. By comparison their time together, even the good parts, paled into insignificance.

"I know how much you wanted that," he eventually conceded, avoiding eye contact as much as possible and continuing to examine the small dark-haired boy in the photo. "He looks like you."

Raising his eyes to glance at her, he saw Cuddy fidgeting in her seat, her mouth opening several times as if she was about to say something, but no sound came out. Finally she found her voice.

"He looks more like you."

The sentence had been uttered quietly enough for him to question what he'd just heard her say, and yet he was ninety-nine percent sure he'd heard her correctly. Silent seconds turned into silent minutes, as he tried to compute what she'd just inferred. It didn't add up.

"If this is some kind of a joke…"

"Because I'd really joke about that!" she spat back venomously. Glancing back and forth between her and the photo, House now felt like a fool. Sure the kid had her colouring, but there was an unmistakeable resemblance between the boy he was looking at and the childhood photos his Mom kept of him in an old shoebox in her closet. Seeing him struggle with the admission, Cuddy went on. "I found out I was pregnant the night of the crash… The Police interviewed me for hours outside, and when I finally went to get up, I passed out… They took me to the hospital to check me over, and I was fine, except there was a baby." She paused for a second, and watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he gulped, the distress also evident in his eyes. "Are you not going to say anything?"

Almost as if he was in a daze, he stared at her with a look she couldn't remember ever seeing before: something half-way between abject horror and utter sorrow. And then just as soon as she saw it, he looked away and the emotion was gone, like a barrier had been built around him literally within in the blink of an eye. Unhooking his cane from the edge of the table, he quickly slid along the seat and stood up.

"I need to go."

Without giving her chance to respond, he stalked away from her and headed towards the exit, leaving her fumbling in her purse for a twenty to leave on the table. Outraged she got up, paced after him and soon caught up in the car park, placing a hand on his shoulder and spinning him around to face her.

"Why am I not surprised you're running away?"

"What do you want me to do?" he thundered back, knocking her hand off him. "Pencil in some Father and son bonding time on Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

"He's your child!"

House sniggered.

"Biologically speaking, yeah, my sperm got up close and personal with one of your eggs, but he's not my kid. He's yours…. I'm presuming you haven't told him about the time his real Daddy nearly killed him, his Mom, his Aunt and his Uncle, because that would be some family anecdote at Thanksgiving!"

"You're an asshole!"

"You're right! I am an asshole, which makes even less sense of the fact you chose to tell me this now."

Cuddy frowned back at him, and folded her arms defensively.

"You'd rather I hadn't told you?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed as if it was the most obvious thing in the World. "What good did it fucking do?!... It's not as if there's going to be some sort of miraculous reconciliation between us that involves me taking him out for burgers and milkshakes… I have a life now that doesn't involve me relying on anybody, and nobody relies on me. I work five days a week in a job that means I don't have to fraternise with most of the morons out there, and every night I get the pleasure of playing my piano… One day, maybe soon, all the crap I've done to my body over the years will catch up with me, and I'll probably drop dead in my apartment. If my neighbours are lucky, it won't be days or weeks before someone finds me… Yes, it's pathetic, but I've learnt to accept it and even enjoy it." He paused to look at her and saw big, wet tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. He hadn't meant to upset her, but it needed to be said, for her sake as much as his. "Being on my own means nobody can hurt me, and I can't hurt them."

"That sounds lonely," she said softly, fighting hard to stop the tears from falling.

"Me coming here with you was a mistake… We should have kept things professional."

Instantly Cuddy scoffed. House advocating professionalism was probably the most ironic thing she'd ever heard. And with that he turned away and began to walk towards the sidewalk, eager to put distance between them both literally and figuratively.

"Don't you even want to know his name?" she called after him, stopping her ex in his tracks.

Where he stood, he closed his eyes and sighed. The more he knew, the more he'd want to know and that would be a complete waste of his energy. He had absolutely nothing to offer her or 'his' son, so what was the point of taking the olive branch that she appeared to be offering? He should have encouraged her to go home the night she'd turned up at his apartment and told him she loved him all those years ago, because he'd always known it couldn't work, but he'd been weak. In turn that weakness had eventually cost him nearly everything, and he wasn't equipped to go through that again. Now was his opportunity to do the right thing, and he had to grasp it.

Whilst he craned his neck back to look at her one last time, Chase's words echoed at the back of his mind: _Draw a line._

"Goodbye, Cuddy," House hollered back, gripping his cane so firmly his knuckles turned white, and then he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

* * *

_Don't hate me for recycling this particular 'revelation' from FWYS! I had a long conversation with a friend about this, and for the life of us we couldn't come up with a better explanation as to why Cuddy would have gone from wanting to keep House away from herself and her hospital, to handing her notice in within the space of less than twenty four hours. Under 'normal' circumstances I can't imagine her not wanting to stick it out, at least for a while._

_Stay tuned! _


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks to all you lovely people out there who've read and reviewed etc. It gave me the kick up the bum I needed this week to get on with this chapter. Your thoughts are always welcome. _

_I know you guys have got a lot of questions that you want answering about this fic and where I'm going with the characters. I promise I will get there hopefully with everything, but I don't want to force too much into each chapter so that things aren't revealed organically. I'm more of a tortoise than a hare. ;)_

_Still angst-ridden here, but a little progress…_

_Characters aren't mine._

* * *

"To disappointingly warm beer!" House declared with mock enthusiasm, clinking his half-empty beer bottle against Chase's in a makeshift toast and turning to regard the noisy throng of patrons surrounding them as they sat at the bar. Today was one of those days when he hated 99.9 percent of the population, but sitting at home alone after work had seemed equally unappealing, hence the impromptu phone call to his former protégé. Next to him he could feel a suspicious pair of eyes trying to analyse him.

"So what's this about?"

"It's a bar, Skippy," the older man answered sarcastically. "You drink enough alcohol to either forget your problems and/or to psych yourself up to sleep with someone you wouldn't even look at in the cold, harsh light of day… It's one of the foundations of this great nation, and the major cause of liver failure and unplanned pregnancies."

Thoughtfully he took a swig of his beer, as Chase continued to watch him for clues to explain why he'd been invited out for a drink by his former boss. Bumping into each other was one thing, but actively being asked to meet him was another. Years of working for him made him wary of everything House did: every action had a purpose.

"So why are you here?"

"I'm obviously hitting on you." House paused to take a further glug, and then glanced at him with amusement. "The more I drink, the shinier your hair gets. It's dazzling… As are your eyes."

Bemused, Chase began to peel the label off his own bottle and smirked.

"I guess you're drinking to forget then."

"Nope. This is sayonara!... I'm spreading my wings and leaving New Jersey in a couple of weeks after my parole officer signs me off. Thought I'd let you know."

"What about your job?"

House shrugged and drained his drink unceremoniously.

"There's plenty of burger joints out there looking for an old ex-con with a limp. I'll be fighting off the job offers."

Seeing the troubled look on Chase's face, he sighed and gestured for the barman to bring them two more beers, silently expecting the younger man to pay for them when they were brought, which he duly did under duress.

"Nothing to do with Cuddy moving back here then?" the diagnostician pressed, already knowing the answer.

For a long time House didn't answer, almost prompting him to repeat the question in case he hadn't heard over the general din in the bar. In reality he was just considering his options. Of course he could lie, play dumb about knowing she was back in Princeton, but that was a pointless exercise. He'd taught him too well to be conscious of when someone was playing fast and loose with the truth. What did it matter anyhow? He'd be out of there in a couple of weeks.

"Cuddy's a part of my past. I can't make a fresh start if there's a risk of bumping into her… Besides, she's got family here… I don't. There's no reason to stay."

As if deep in thought, Chase rubbed his chin like a Greek scholar, his fingers grazing over the stubble that was growing there, making House wonder if he was fully committed into turning into his own personal Mini Me.

"She was arguing with her sister in one of the relative rooms at the hospital today," he finally offered almost shyly, not entirely sure if this was something he should be divulging. "I heard your name mentioned."

Inwardly House cringed. Naturally she'd told her sister what had happened the day before, and had got it both barrels from Julia. He could practically hear her berating her older sibling for even bringing herself to sit and drink coffee with him, let alone telling him about the pregnancy. Just one more reason why he had to leave. He wasn't keen on facing the potential wrath of one of his victims if he stuck around, nor did he want to make things any more difficult for Cuddy by creating a divide between her and her family.

"I can't help it if the Cuddy women go wild for me," he jibed half-heartedly.

Ignoring the wise-crack, Chase swivelled on his stool to look at him directly.

"I'm guessing something happened between you then."

"You guessed right," he retorted coolly.

"Ok."

Sensing House was on the verge of telling him to mind his own business, the younger man didn't push any further. Instead he turned back around and kept quiet, draining the dregs of his first beer and moving onto the second. It was classic reverse psychology, a move that they were both aware of, but that was bound to work its magic in 3… 2… 1…

"She was pregnant," House blurted out. "When I ploughed my car into her house she was carrying my baby… How the fuck am I supposed to live with that?"

Rubbing a hand over his face, he closed his eyes and remembered rushing down an alley after he'd left Cuddy standing in that car park and rounded the corner out of her line of vision. It had been a miracle that he'd managed to stem the flow of vomit that long, he mused. He'd treated female victims of domestic violence, pregnant ones at that, and whilst he always tried to stay detached from his patient's predicaments, he'd secretly reserved a special type of disgust for the type of bully who'd lace into their partners when they were carrying a child. Any remaining illusions that what he'd done was simply out of a need to permanently sever the ties between them had evaporated. The thought of having become the thing he despised so much had literally made him sick to his stomach, and there was no getting around the fact he'd turned into that bully. More than that, he'd unwittingly turned into a version of his Father and that sickened him even more.

"Did she lose it?" he heard Chase ask cautiously.

Slowly he shook his head.

"No… Somewhere a few miles from here, there's a five year old boy who shares half my genes. Scary thought for humanity, huh?"

"And you're not going to do anything about that?"

"I told you," the older man responded. "I'm getting as far away from here as possible, thereby improving his chances in life exponentially… That'll be my greatest contribution, aside from the sperm I donated to create him."

Clearly taken aback by the revelation, Chase ran his hand through his hair and let the air filter out of his lungs. Even by House's unpredictable standards, this whole turn of events had come out of left field and shocked him. The man he'd worked with for nearly a decade being a parent seemed incongruous with who he was, and yet at the same time it kind of didn't. There was a bizarrely paternal undertone to the way he'd been dealt with over the years by the man slumped against the bar in front of him. Sure it was far, far from conventional, but he'd learnt far more about life from him than he had from his own Father.

"What if he wants to get in touch with you when he's older?"

"I'm fairly certain a quick retelling of the past will put paid to that." Sadly, he turned and regarded his former employee, the sorrow evident on his face. "The likelihood of me making it to his eighteenth birthday is pretty slim anyway. I already died once."

Rolling his eyes at the mention of House's 'death', he pressed on.

"My Dad was a jerk, but I can't imagine never having met him… I can't imagine living with knowing I had a child out there somewhere too."

"Knowing the antipodean man-whore that you are, you probably already do," House shot back brusquely, before acknowledging how uncalled for the deflection was and replying more appropriately. "You told me to draw a line and I did. It was the right thing to do."

"That was before I knew she'd had your kid."

"It's not my kid!"

His raised voice caused the couple sat next to them to turn and stare, which he swiftly saw off with a ruthless glower. Meanwhile, Chase wondered how much he'd really thought leaving through, and how much was really just a knee-jerk reaction to the insane circumstances of the last few days. God knows, it'd be enough to make the most stable of personalities lose track of what was up and what was down.

"Things have changed, House… I know you're doing this because you think it's the simplest answer to the problem, but whether you like it or not, you and Cuddy are always going to have a link. She's never going to be able to forget you, because every time she looks at her son she's going to be reminded of you… That's just a fact… This is going to eat at you too."

"I've made up my mind," he countered tersely. "I'm don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Bullshit!"

There was a force and certainty behind Chase's outburst that confused House. Working with him for a couple of days again had shown he'd developed a confidence in his abilities and opinions in the last few years that amused and pleased his former boss in equal measure.

"How is me not wanting to listen to you drone on about this bullshit?"

"You wanted someone to discuss this with. That's why you asked me to come for a drink."

"I invited you here to ask for your advice?" he sneered. "Why exactly would I do that?"

Leisurely Chase folded his arms across himself and regarded him knowingly.

"Because I'm the closest thing you have to a friend right now, and you need to know you're not making a mistake."

It wasn't a particularly smug or intentionally cruel statement, but it was tinged with the kind of self-assurance which signalled he knew he was right. The thing was, House pondered, he absolutely was. Ever since Cuddy had rather abruptly turned up in his life again, he'd longed for the sounding board Wilson had constantly offered him throughout their friendship. He always missed him anyway, but at this crossroads in his long, miserable existence the loss was especially acute. At least in Chase he had someone who knew him well enough not to sugar the pill, as far as giving out advice was concerned.

"The only reason I saw her again was because you brought me in on the case," he eventually said sombrely. "If her nephew hadn't got sick we wouldn't be sat here discussing this now."

The man in front of him frowned.

"She told you I brought you in on the case?" House nodded in response, and waited for an explanation. "She asked for you… I didn't want you stealing my thunder, but she insisted."

"Why would she lie?"

"I'm not really the person to ask."

Glancing down at the floor, House felt a twinge in his thigh and pressed his palm against where it ached automatically, the undulating movement as he massaged it helping him think.

"There's nothing that I can ever do that's going to make up for what I did."

"You'll regret it if you don't at least try." Chase lowered his voice to just above a whisper, before continuing. "Sometimes the only thing that keeps me going is knowing that every life I save tips the scales back a little bit more in my favour… Maybe I'm fighting a losing battle, or it's a convenient type of moral relativism, but it's better than running away… At least give Cuddy the opportunity to tell you to stay out of their lives once and for all."

"What am I supposed to do?... Just turn up at her house and scare the crap out of her?"

Unexpectedly, the younger man got to his feet and pulled his cell from his pocket, placing it on the bar and sliding it along the surface towards House.

"I'm going to the bathroom… If you go through my phone and find her number, it's nothing to do with me."

Promptly Chase turned his back on him and zig-zagged his way past the other people in the bar, leaving House staring at the phone in front of him like it was a hand grenade about to go off.

* * *

This was the seventh time that day House had found himself staring at Cuddy's number on the display of his cell, and it was only lunchtime. On purpose he'd chosen to take his break outside and had made his way to the back of the library, perching himself on a wall near the fire exit where he knew he'd be afforded some privacy. The night before he'd nearly pushed Chase's phone away. He'd willed himself to do so, but he couldn't. The thought of hearing her voice again was something he couldn't turn down outright: now that that door had been left open to him, ignoring the tiny chink of light it offered was proving difficult. At the same time taking that first step was equally as problematic. There was every chance this could all go horribly wrong; that she'd accuse him of harassing her, or worse still, she'd let him back into her life to try to build some sort of relationship with her son, and he'd screw things up again.

Pulling his jacket tightly around him as the breeze picked up, he took a deep breath and bit the bullet, pressing the call button and holding it to his ear as it rang. Within a few seconds he heard a click and then a familiar voice.

"Hello?" With his mouth suddenly dry, he felt as if he'd been struck dumb. Again she offered a greeting and waited.

"It's me," he finally managed, gulping when he heard the unsurprised sigh at the other end. "Don't hang up."

"Where did you get my number?" she asked coolly.

"I took Chase's phone and got it… He doesn't know I'm calling you." It wasn't exactly a lie. He was just being economical with the truth. There was little point in getting someone else in trouble if she started throwing accusations.

"You made it perfectly clear how you felt the other day, House… I don't understand why you're calling."

Trying to find the appropriate words, he craned his head back against the metal bar behind him, and looked up at the clear blue sky. It seemed strangely calm in comparison with the conflicting emotions welling inside him, but then he was used to feeling like a fish out of water in every environment. He always had.

"I need to know why you lied about asking Chase to bring me in on the case."

"I didn't want there to be any confusion," Cuddy finally offered after a hesitant pause. "You're still the best doctor I know, and I wanted the best for my nephew."

"So why invite me for coffee?... Why tell me about him when you could have just shook my hand and I'd have walked away?"

"You did walk away!" she retorted indignantly.

"I was in shock!... Nothing made sense. It still doesn't… Why tell me now? Why at all?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly, meandering from the kitchen where she'd taken the call and into living room where she flopped down onto her sofa. "I spent years hating you. Years turning you into this junkie maniac in my head, reasoning that all the good I saw in you was just a figment of my imagination… The man I thought I knew was reckless, but there was no way he could go that far." She stopped for a moment and heard his rhythmic breathing at the end of the line, a sign that he was listening intently; something he used to do so rarely. Something they _both _used to do so rarely. "And then I saw you again and you seemed so normal… Not only that you saved Joe's life, refused to take my money and you were kind about me losing Jonathan. You weren't even using anymore… I didn't plan it, House. When you asked about him I just couldn't bring myself to keep it from you any longer."

Processing what she'd said, House couldn't help but appreciate her candidness. There were still so many questions though.

"Does he know I exist?"

"Yes," she responded quietly. "I didn't meet Jonathan until after he was born, so it was pointless pretending he was his biological father. Rachel would have told him."

"Do they know what happened?"

Without having to ask, she knew it was an inference to the crash and everything that led up to it. This was altogether more difficult territory.

"Most of it," she admitted, thinking back to the day she and her husband had sat them down and decided to answer their increasingly persistent question less than a year ago. "They both know why we went to New York. I didn't want them hearing it from someone else."

Thoroughly ashamed, House was at a loss what to say, eventually settling on the obvious question.

"What do you want me to do?"

"What do you mean?" Cuddy shot back in confusion.

"I can leave Jersey soon. If that's what you need me to do, I'll delete your number and I won't try getting in touch again."

"I'm not going to force you out of the area, House… You've got just as much right to live here as me."

"It's not about you forcing me out," he clarified, kicking out at the wall adjacent to where he was sat and scuffing the toe of his sneaker in the process. "If you're not comfortable with me living this close to you, I'm prepared to go. You won't have to worry about seeing me again."

Genuinely taken aback by the offer, she didn't know what to say. He'd told her the only reason he'd ended up with a semi-decent job was because someone had taken pity on him. What realistically did the future hold for him if he didn't have that lifeline? Moreover, now that he'd come back into her life was she entirely sure if she wanted him out of it again? Perhaps that wasn't the issue anyway. Maybe he was the one who wanted out.

"Is that what you want?"

In response she heard him take a sharp breath, as if he was bracing himself.

"I want to see my son, Cuddy, but that's not my decision to make."

After his outburst outside the diner where he'd told her he was "her kid", House claiming some sort of ownership of their child didn't go unnoticed. She didn't know whether to be scared or relieved.

"And what if I let you and you hurt him like you hurt me?" she probed, the emotion in her voice making her words seem clipped.

"If you really think I'm capable of hurting him, you shouldn't let me anywhere near him."

It was hardly surprising that she worried it would be a huge risk, House thought to himself as he waited for her to reply. It was, for everybody involved, but especially for her. She'd be putting her entire family on the line if he screwed up again.

"I swear, if you fuck this up, you'd better expect a slow, painful death."

"You've only been talking to me again for a few days, and already the bondage threats," he cracked, characteristically reacting to the tension with a joke.

"I'm serious, House, Rachel and Gabriel are the most important things in my life…"

"Is that his name?" he interrupted. "Gabriel?"

Bemused that they'd somehow managed to have a conversation about their son without mentioning his name before now, Cuddy couldn't help but smile at his uninhibited inquisitiveness.

"I named him after my Dad."

"Could you get anymore Jewish?" he threw back jovially, making her laugh out loud in spite of herself.

"My Mom tried to convince me to call him Abraham after I found out I was having a boy, so the answer to that question is a definitive yes."

"Converts are always the biggest zealots… Maybe if you'd plumped for Moses you'd be making a fortune out of him by now when he parted the water in paddling pools at children's parties."

"Funnily enough turning my son into circus act is up there in my top ten list of things to do," she quipped drolly, drawing a snort from her ex. As surreal as this whole thing was, they were both starting to loosen up and enjoy themselves, falling into their old habit of bantering with one another as if it was the most natural thing in the World. "He's beautiful, House."

"Of course he is! I'm his father… His Mom's not exactly hideous either."

Mulling over his back-handed compliment, Cuddy bit her lip and decided to ignore it. Now wasn't the time to even consider why she'd enjoyed hearing it so much. She had more pressing matters in hand.

"He reminds me so much of you when I first met you… He's handsome, funny and so smart, but he struggles with people he doesn't know… This isn't going to be easy, House. You've got to earn my trust and his too."

"I know."

It was a huge responsibility, but turning his back on it didn't seem like an option now, even if he'd wanted to. Having a child could either be the anchor that grounded him, or the one that sunk him. In that moment he was determined to make it the former. He hadn't realised just how much he'd wanted it before, but after years out in metaphorical wilderness, in prison and then back in Princeton living a second-rate facsimile of his old life, he'd longed for a real place and purpose in the World, and this was his chance. As unlikely as it seemed just a short time ago, he could actually identify himself as somebody's Dad.

"I'm not sure you do."

"I do," he asserted sincerely. "I know what's at stake. I also know how crap hurting someone I care about feels… That's not going to happen again."

"In that case, are you free on Friday evening?" she quizzed, making raise his eyebrow in curiosity. There was a breeziness in her tone that most people would mistake for a sense of ease. He knew her better than that, and to him it was obvious she was just as nervous as he was. She was offering the invite before she changed her mind.

"I'm pretty sure I can make myself free."

"Good!" she said chirpily. "You can come for dinner and meet your son."

Gleefully House swung his legs out in front of him like an overgrown schoolboy, as his face broke into a broad grin.

"I'd like that a lot."


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks everyone for reading, reviewing, favouriting and alerting over the last week. It's much appreciated. It's really interesting to see how differently people interpret this situation I've thrown them into. Personally I don't think either of them have acted out of malice, but a need to safe-guard themselves, and in Cuddy's case, her children. Again, keep those thoughts coming!_

_So let's throw the kids into the mix… *evil grin*_

_Not mine. I have more respect for the need for character development._

* * *

With his heart thumping loudly in his chest, House timidly lifted his cane and rapped on the heavy wooden door he was stood in front of, immediately taking a step back to observe the property as a whole. Glancing over the expanse of the single storey building, it was obvious Cuddy had spent some serious money on the place. Not only was she now living in a more affluent area than she used to, with its array of long, winding driveways and neatly manicured lawns, but it was also a more sizeable home, which was obviously to be expected with the expansion of her family. It didn't seem particularly ostentatious however. He'd passed several houses in the taxi on the way there with their tacky sculptures and ridiculous topiary that were obvious status symbols, but that wasn't the case here. From the outside it seemed well-kept and homely, and truth be told, exactly the type of home he could imagine her living in.

The door opening pulled him from his thoughts, and revealed a slightly flustered looking Cuddy, smoothing her pale blue sweater down like she'd just got changed. Unsurprisingly she looked great.

"Hi."

"Hi," he offered back, almost as a question. In the three days since he'd spoken to her and made arrangements to come for dinner, he'd constantly expected her to call and tell him not to come, but much to his surprise, she hadn't. She'd even text to confirm he was coming earlier in the day.

"You're ten minutes early."

"If you want I can walk around the block and come back?" he asked half seriously, nervous energy making him jittery.

Immediately she smirked at him.

"I think we can let you in early."

Stepping aside and holding the door back, she beckoned for him to step over the threshold and he duly did so, walking into the large hallway and cautiously taking in his unfamiliar surroundings, before handing over the bottle of wine he'd brought with him.

"I got you this… I was going to buy him something, but then I realised I didn't know what he liked…"

"It's fine," Cuddy interrupted, automatically placing a placatory hand on his wrist and surprising them both with the unconscious action. More surprising was how wrong it didn't feel to either of them. "Thank you."

Taking his coat and placing it on one of the hooks behind them, she ushered him into the large, airy living room where a small boy sat on the oversized sofa, his feet barely poking over the edge of the seat, and entirely engrossed in the racing game he was observing his progress in on the big TV screen that hung on the wall. Standing in stone, cold silence as he observed the physical proof that the child really did exist, House felt butterflies flutter around in his stomach. His son was real, and not only that, the photograph he'd seen really hadn't relayed just how much he did resemble him. He had the same frown as he concentrated on the game. The same intense, blue eyes that were lit up by the reflection from the light. It was almost eerie.

"Gabe!" he heard a voice next to him calling. "House is here. Say hello."

"Hi."

It was barely a mumble as he stayed focused on the game, not even bothering to glance at the 'stranger' in his home. Irritated by her son's response, Cuddy strode over to the TV and switched it off, one hand falling to her hip as she tilted her head to the side and glowered at the five year old. A few feet away Gabriel returned the look defiantly. Watching from a distance, House bit his lip and nearly drew blood trying not to laugh. He'd seen this kind of stand-off a million times before, but never had he been the third party looking on with near anthropological interest.

"Mom!"

"You were rude to our guest, Gabriel!"

"I was in the middle of a race," he countered indignantly, his bottom lip beginning to protrude signalling he was about to sulk.

"I don't care! That's not how we behave here… Say hello properly!"

Rolling his eyes, Gabriel got to his feet and turned to House, making a show of bowing to the man in front of him.

"Welcome to our home!" Pulling himself up from his sarcastically deferent pose, he turned back to address his Mom. "Happy now?"

"Not especially, but you can go and help your sister set the table in the dining room."

"Do I have to?" he grumbled.

"Yes, go!" Muttering things under his breath, the perturbed boy plodded past his Mother and through into the adjoining room, leaving House and Cuddy alone. Quickly, she turned to him. "I'm so sorry!... He's been in a strange mood since he came back from school."

"No, it's fine," he replied, no longer containing his amusement. "It's good to know he really is my kid. Do you make him do clinic hours too?"

Instantly shooting him a half annoyed/half bemused look, she gestured towards the kitchen just under the archway at the other end of the room, and held the bottle out towards him.

"C'mon! You can open this for me."

* * *

Aside from the odd complementary comment about the meal, an awkward silence had descended over the four people who sat at the dining table. Beside him, House felt Cuddy glance at him and then opposite to her two children, obviously gauging the bizarre situation that they'd all found themselves in. Opposite him, Rachel ate silently and seemed to be avoiding eye contact, whilst next to her her brother played with his food, separating each element on his plate into neat little divisions.

Unable to bear the tense atmosphere any longer, Cuddy cleared her throat.

"How was school, Rach?"

"Good," she said jovially, visibly relieved that someone had finally spoken. "I made a new friend… She wants to know if I can sleep over for her birthday next weekend. Can I?"

"If we can arrange it, it won't be a problem. I'll need her parents number though."

"Sure!"

Appeased, Cuddy smiled at her daughter. Moving them back to New Jersey had been a risk. Rachel had had friends in New York and enjoyed school there. She'd also been less than pleased when she'd first proposed the move. Gradually, however, she'd come round to the idea of being closer to her family, especially her cousins who she adored. That she was making friends at her new school was hardly a surprise for Cuddy, her daughter seemed to have a natural ease with other people her own age, nevertheless it was a relief. Gabriel, on the other hand, was a different prospect all together.

"How about you, buddy?"

Not answering straight away, the five year old rested his chin in his hand and pushed a piece of potato around his plate with his fork. Watching him, House couldn't help but notice his reticence to answer and automatically wondered if it was a product of shyness because a relative stranger was sat eating dinner with them, or something else. Either way he seemed preoccupied.

"Ok, I guess," he shrugged.

Similarly concerned about his quietness, Cuddy decided it was time to address the elephant in the room.

"I know tonight is a little strange. For all of us." Turning to her ex-boyfriend she gave him a reassuring glance, and then regarded her children again. "You both must have questions, so if either of you want to ask House or me anything, we'll try our best to tell you what you want to know."

Checking to see if that was ok, she glimpsed back at him again and saw him momentarily squirm in his seat, before nodding in agreement as he realised how unavoidable this was. If he was in their position, unquestionably he'd want answers too: he'd just have to grin and bear it. Across the way from him Gabriel sat back in his chair and folded his arms, his eyes looking over House as if he was a lion about to pounce on a gazelle, but Rachel was the first one to speak.

"You saved Joe's life?"

"Kind of," House answered with a frown. The question had thrown him slightly. "I was the one who figured out what was wrong with him. Other doctors treated him."

"Thank you."

Again he was utterly baffled. He'd expected both of them to be openly hostile and quiz him on what the hell he was doing in their home. To be thanked instead had blind-sided him, leaving him unsure how to respond.

"You don't have to thank me."

"We were scared," Rachel replied sincerely, her sombre expression demonstrating just how much of a traumatic experience it had been for her. "He's not just my cousin, he's my friend too."

"Then I'm glad I could help make him better."

Tentatively he smiled at her and she responded in kind, her mouth ticking upwards into the same dimpled grin she'd had when she was three years old. Suddenly he was desperate to know if she had any recollection of him at all before they'd moved away, but before he could articulate anything his attention was drawn elsewhere.

"Why do you walk with a cane?" Gabriel enquired matter-of factly.

"That's not appropriate!" Cuddy scolded.

"Why not?" Stubbornly he stared back at his Mom, his stony expression demonstrating that he was stirring the pot on purpose. "You said we could ask what we wanted to."

"It's ok," House butted in. "If he wants to know I'll tell him. It's not a secret."

"You're sure?"

He nodded at her and turned his back to the expectant boy, whilst his leg ironically threatened to go into cramp under the table, almost as if it objected to being the subject of conversation over dinner. Grimacing slightly, he stretched it out and kneaded the muscle.

"Years ago I got sick and it damaged my leg…"

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a baby," Gabriel interjected testily, soliciting another disapproving look from his Mother, which seemed to temper his bravado a little.

In spite of his misgivings, House resolved to forge on in a manner that wouldn't draw criticism. If he didn't want him to flower the truth, then he wouldn't.

"I had something called an infarction… The blood stopped flowing properly in my thigh because of a clot and the muscle started to die." He paused to take a gulp of his wine and looked at the three faces watching him keenly, before putting his glass down and going on to recount an abridged version of events. "I didn't want to lose my leg, so your Mom suggested an operation that would remove all the bad tissue… I ended up walking with a cane, but if she hadn't done what she did, I wouldn't be here now... She saved my life."

Gingerly he glanced at Cuddy and saw the genuine shock in her eyes. There was a softness there too, something akin to gratitude, and that was when he realised how much of big deal this confession on his part was to her. For years he'd used her guilt over his disability to manipulate her and get his own way at work and, on occasion, when they'd been together. Aside from his admission to his patient on the night of the crane accident in Trenton, where he told her he'd made a mistake not opting for amputation, he'd never explicitly discussed the triumph of his pride over common sense out loud. Nor had he been magnanimous enough to admit what was now blatantly obvious with the benefit of hindsight and long periods of solitary soul-searching: Cuddy and Stacy had made the right call. Without a doubt, he'd have done the same thing had he been in their position, in fact he'd probably have gone a step further and removed the limb entirely, regardless of what their wishes were. Punishing and blaming them had made him feel better at the time, but it didn't make it any less wrong.

Seconds ticked by as they continued to regard each other, their surroundings and present company melting away, as their eyes searched each other's questioningly like a silent dialogue was going on. Unimpressed, Gabriel sighed loudly and tapped his fingernails against the side of his glass of juice, shooting House a confrontational look, before glancing back at his Mom.

"Are we gonna have dessert?"

* * *

After dinner, Cuddy not so subtly nudged House in the direction of the living room, telling him she and Rachel would do the dishes whilst he 'talked' to Gabriel. What she had in mind, he wasn't entirely sure, but hesitantly he agreed and found himself settling on the sofa, purposefully one seat away from the boy as they hadn't exactly hit it off over dinner. The last thing he wanted to do now was crowd him out. Seemingly uninterested in the new presence in the room, the five year old continued manipulating the Rubik's Cube in his hands, his actions making his brow furrow as he twisted one side to another.

"There's over forty-three quintillion different combinations on those things," House ventured, almost rolling his eyes at his own attempt to engage in small talk with someone a fraction of his age.

"I know." Gabriel continued playing, not bothering to look up. "I read about it."

"I used to have one when I first met your Mom back at college… Back when you couldn't pause live TV and the wheel had just been invented."

"You don't have to talk to me," the child responded quietly, clearly lowering his voice so he couldn't be overheard by the other two people in the house. "I know you're only here because you want my Mom back. There's no need to pretend."

"That's not true," House stuttered, instantly taken aback by the boy's candidness. "I came here to meet you."

Tossing the toy to one side, finally Gabriel turned his whole body to face the man sat next to him, his stern gaze seeming so incongruous on such a small frame. Aside from his size, there was nothing about this child that indicated he really was just five years old. His demeanour, his obvious intellect and even his cynicism were all traits of someone much older. For House it was like taking an unnerving peek back into his own past.

"Why?"

"Because you're my son."

Apparently mulling over his answer, he lowered his eyes to the floor and straightened out the cream rug that covered the wooden floor with his toe.

"That doesn't mean anything," Gabriel eventually countered bluntly. "Mom adopted Rachel, and loads of kids don't have nothing to do with their biological parents."

House gulped reflexively. Didn't he know it!

"That's not what I want to happen between us… I was hoping we could figure out a way to be friends."

"You really think I could be friends with someone who hurt my Mom?" the boy asked incredulously, leaving House dumbstruck. "I know what you did and I don't like you… Nothing's ever going to change that, so you might as well give up whatever plan you have and leave us alone!"

Getting to his feet, Gabriel didn't give him the opportunity to respond, marching out of the room and into the hall, a loud bang seconds later indicating his bedroom door being slammed shut in annoyance. Left alone and utterly dismayed, House closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face wearily.

Things probably couldn't have gone any worse.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing etc over the last week. It's good to know you're still following this story, so stick with me and keep the comments coming! I appreciate them all. _

_Speaking of which, I know several of you had a problem with Gabriel sounding too much like a much older child, but that was intentional on my part. He is cognitively, and that should jar with expectations of such a little guy. Not to give too much of the game away, but the kid isn't just smart, he's exceptionally gifted. Children with that level of natural intelligence, even from a very early age, tend to have a much more developed vocabulary than their peers, are highly sensitive, have a well-honed sense of injustice and hypocrisy, and consequently an innate need to challenge authority figures/adults; hence him and House butting heads straight away. (Let's face it, he does have good reason not to want to go easy on him.) These traits only get reinforced if the majority of their interactions are with older children and adults, which is the case with this little dude. Believe it or not, there are tri-lingual five year olds out there, who can grasp abstract philosophical concepts that would make most people's head spin. To put it into perspective, imagine what House would have been like had he not been so entirely socially isolated as a child, and you have his son. At this point, Gabriel is easily Rachel's intellectual match, if not more advanced, and he's clearly inherited his Father's gift for reading people. Of course there are ways he's still a little boy (bear with me on that), but with House and Cuddy's combined DNA he has the raw potential to outdo his Dad. There are however qualifications to that, which is part of what I want to explore with this fic._

_Anyway I'll shut up now, and let you guys read the chapter. I just wanted you to know I have done my research, and that child development is actually a nerdy interest left over from when I did my Psychology A-Level._

_Finally a few revelations…. _

_Not my show etc_

* * *

Looking more than a little perplexed, Cuddy handed House a cup of coffee and sat down on the sofa next to him with her own herbal tea, folding one leg under herself in the process and turning to regard him.

"He's asleep now, but he wasn't talking anyway… You're sure you didn't say anything to upset him?"

Calmly he took a sip from his hot drink, and tried to disguise his irritation at the fact she was inferring Gabriel's temper tantrum had been his fault. All he'd done was try to talk to him.

"For once in my life, I was on my best behaviour."

Somewhat satisfied, she nodded her head and continued to clutch her warm drink, looking thoughtfully out of the window.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Look, Cuddy if this is too much…"

"You're giving up already?" she shot back, not waiting for him to finish his sentence. There was anger in her intonation, but also a hint of anxiousness that didn't go unnoticed by him.

"No, I just mean…" He paused and shrugged, momentarily at a loss for words. "I don't know what I mean… This whole thing is new to me. A couple of weeks ago the most I had to worry about was what I was going to make for dinner."

"I know," she agreed, appreciating how much of shock to the system this must be for him. "Gabriel's not your average five year old either… This is the kid who put chocolate spread in my shoes to punish me for confiscating the DVD player in his room… I still have no idea how or when he managed to do it without me knowing, although I'm sure he roped Rachel into it too."

House chuckled heartily, imagining the moment she gone to slip her feet into them.

"That's brilliant!"

"For who? They ruined a $200 pair of shoes!" In spite of her half-hearted attempt to stay annoyed, she couldn't help but laugh along with House. "He is the most stubborn kid on the planet, and who'd have thought it with our combined DNA?"

"The likelihood of us spawning one of The Brady Bunch was pretty slim."

Thinking how right he was, Cuddy drank from her mug and set it down on the coffee table in front of her, quickly making herself comfortable again and watching her ex as he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. He'd missed so much of Gabriel's life because she'd chosen not to tell him, and there was a huge amount of guilt attached to that decision. There'd been occasions when she'd been so desperate to share their son's existence with him that she'd come close to picking up the phone and calling him. Her marriage and the thought of diving into the unknown had stopped her. Now it felt like the floodgates had opened, and she wanted to start filling in the gaps.

"When he was three he told me it wasn't fair that Rachel got an allowance, and that he didn't. I told him that he was too young to need one, but he wouldn't have it… Eventually I started giving him a couple of dollars a week, and he seemed happy enough with it. I thought he was saving it."

Genuinely curious, House narrowed his eyes and felt a smirk tickle the corners of his mouth.

"What was he doing with it?"

"When we were in New York the Nanny used to take him shopping for groceries with her on a Monday morning, and then one week she called in sick… I had to take a day off work and do the shopping myself, and when we got to the store I heard someone call his name. Straight away he let go of my hand and walked over to this homeless guy, pulling the two dollar bills I'd given him the day before out of his pocket on the way."

Cuddy stopped to check House was still listening. He was. In fact, with one hand under his chin, he seemed oddly rapt with the story.

"Of course I freaked out… Here was this man, who I had no idea who he was, and he knew my son's name. So I dragged Gabe into the store and he wouldn't stop crying… I tried to explain to him that he shouldn't talk to strangers, but he insisted that he knew him, and then he told me this guy's life story. About how his wife and kids had died in a fire. How he'd lost his job, and then he'd ended up begging on the streets… He'd been talking to him for weeks, and that was the reason he'd wanted an allowance in the first place… He'd just wanted to help."

"What happened to the guy?" he quizzed.

"I made a few calls. The charity I helped set up had links with homeless shelters. We found him a place, and he managed to get himself back on his feet… He still emails us now and again to let us know how he's getting on."

"Cool!" House exclaimed. "Although with my love of pranks and your societal guilt you do know the kid is bound to end up working for Greenpeace."

Amused, Cuddy giggled.

"He's worth getting to know, House… Life's never boring around Gabe."

"I've heard that somewhere before."

Suddenly frowning as if she'd remembered something, Cuddy swiftly got to her feet and told him to hang on. Confused, he watched her wander over to the other side of the room and bend down to open the cupboard underneath the bookshelves, which afforded him a perfect view of her ass in the tight jeans she was wearing. In a state of near torture, House bit his lip and looked away. As much as he'd love to stare at her backside all day, something about the situation they'd found themselves in and the fact that she'd now revealed herself as the Mother of his child, made it seem inappropriate even by his standards.

After finding what she was looking for, she soon returned and handed him a photograph, once more sitting back down.

"I pulled some things out of storage when I moved back, and I found that."

Examining what she'd handed him, he smirked at the three familiar people in the picture, Cuddy flanked on either side by Wilson and himself, all three of them dressed up to the nines for one of the fundraisers she'd regularly force him to attend under pain of even more clinic hours. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"This has to be at least ten years old."

"I make it twelve."

Continuing to scrutinize the three faces, House noticed Cuddy's slightly wide-eyed expression and pointed it out to her.

"Now there's a strained smile if ever I saw one."

"If I remember correctly, you kept on trying to grope my ass and blame Wilson."

"It was Wilson!" he threw back, trying to feign seriousness, but failing miserably.

Tilting her head to one side, she shot him 'the look'.

"No, it wasn't."

"Well he's not here anymore to either confirm or deny, so you'll have to take my word for it."

With a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he handed it back to her and quietly resumed drinking his coffee; an air of sombreness now permeating the atmosphere between them. With her brow knitting as she observed him, Cuddy saw the sadness there and empathised with his loss. She missed Wilson too. When she'd left the hospital she'd realised she had to sever her friendship with him as well. For weeks after she'd gone he'd continuously called her cell, but she'd never picked up. She knew he'd never be able to stay mad with House forever, and if she answered his calls she'd be sucked right back in, buckling within minutes and telling him she was carrying his best friend's baby. At the time she'd wanted a completely clean break. Now it hurt like hell knowing she'd never had a proper chance to say goodbye.

"What you did was stupid and crazy, but I'm glad you found a way to be there for him at the end."

"You know then?" he sighed. He'd suspected she must have known what happened, but they hadn't managed to cover that ground yet.

"Was hard not to… The doctor who faked his own death to spend time with his dying best friend made the national news."

"Famous at last!" he cracked sarcastically. "Wonder who'll play me in the Lifetime movie?"

Sensing he was deflecting, Cuddy delicately tried to press on.

"How bad was it?"

Not answering straight away, House finished his drink and put the cup down on the table next to hers. Briefly he closed his eyelids and saw his friend's wan, greyish face a couple of days before he died. The husk of a man he became was an echo of who he used to be. It still haunted him.

"We both know cancer's not pretty at the end… He didn't want his family seeing him like that, and I had to respect his decision."

"I went to the funeral," she offered sadly. "I half-expected to see you there."

"You know me!" he countered breezily. "Social occasions bring me out in hives… Technically he wasn't family, so they wouldn't let me out… I'd already said goodbye anyway."

A strangely comfortable, yet sombre silence fell between them, the ticking of the clock on the mantel punctuating the seconds ticking by as they sat there together.

"What made you get clean again?" Cuddy eventually asked, biting her lip in case he thought she was prying. It'd been something she'd wanted to know from the moment he'd told her was no longer using, especially considering the circumstances surrounding their break up.

"The night Wilson died I realised I had a choice." His blue eyes seared into hers as he spoke. "I either OD'd on the Vicodin I had left, because that was going to happen sooner or later anyway, or I handed myself in, detoxed and tried to make some sort of a life for myself when I got out."

"That was a brave thing to do."

"Not really," he contradicted, shaking his head. "I nearly got shanked when I wouldn't hand over my stash the first time I went to prison, so it was more like common sense… You'll be pleased to know I had my ass handed to me more than once too."

Quickly his wry grin faded when he saw the shock on her face. She appeared a little wounded as well.

"I don't get any pleasure out of knowing that."

Feeling self-conscious under her gaze, he looked for a distraction and glanced at his watch to check the time. It was nearly eleven, and therefore he had the perfect excuse to make tracks.

"It's late," he announced. "Can I use your bathroom and then call a taxi?"

"Sure… You'll have to use the one in my bedroom. I've got a guy coming to see the one in the hall tomorrow."

"Ok. Where?" he asked, pulling himself up and starting to leave the room.

"Straight ahead at the bottom of the hall… And no goddamn snooping!"

Rounding the corner, his face broke into a broad grin.

"Would I?"

* * *

As he washed his hands, House stared at his reflection in the cabinet mirror and realised there was something different. The same lines he'd seen that morning were still there, their creases more pronounced as he frowned at himself. So was the now entirely grey bristle that adorned his cheeks. It was his eyes. There was a spark there that he hadn't seen in a long, long time; an absence of the hollowness that he'd become so accustomed to when he faced himself that he could only describe as something akin to hope. For what he wasn't entirely certain, but the fact he'd spent the evening with his former girlfriend and her children, no matter how 'difficult' some of the night had been, was hardly a coincidence. By attempting to forge some sort of a relationship with Gabriel, there was a promise of a future there that didn't involve blundering through from one day to the next, and one where he had Cuddy back in his life in whatever capacity they managed to muddle their way towards. Being near her made him feel better. Until the catastrophic unravelling of their romantic involvement, it always had. She'd always made him feel a little less cynical, a little more human.

Turning to dry his hands on the towel, he then began to open the door and leave the bathroom when a sharp pain shot through his leg, knocking the wind from him a little. Balancing most of his weight on his good limb, it dawned on him he'd missed his regular dose of Advil, and in the rush to leave his apartment he'd forgotten to bring any with him. Chastising himself for his own stupidity, he considered pushing through it and just going home, but the thought of enduring the twenty minute journey back home cooped up in the back of a taxi when his leg was threatening to go into spasm wasn't exactly appealing. Glancing back towards the cabinet on the wall, he wondered if he could 'borrow' two pills. She was bound to have them, her medicine cabinet had always been well stocked with just about everything anybody could possibly need for a medical emergency, and it wasn't as if he'd lie about it. He'd take them, tell her about it and that would be that.

Resolving that that was the best course of action, he hobbled back over to the sink and opened the cabinet, pushing the mouth wash out of the way and finding a couple of pill bottles behind it. Grabbing the first he took it out and read the label, his jaw unconsciously dropping as he saw the name of the drug and who it was prescribed to. Reaching in again, he pulled the other bottle out and this time gulped when he discovered what it was, a wave of nausea beginning to turn his stomach. Minutes passed as he stood frozen to the spot, the implications of what he'd just found out zipping through his mind like a ball in a pinball machine.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" asked an accusatory voice behind him, forcing him to spin around awkwardly and find Cuddy leaning against the door jamb. She seemed furious. Disappointed even.

"My leg hurt. I was looking for Advil." It felt like he was fumbling for an excuse, even if he was telling the truth. Looking one more time at the Xanax and Paxil bottles in his hands, now it made sense as to why she'd refused a glass of the wine he'd brought with him. "Did I do this to you?"

Throwing her head back, she scoffed.

"My God, you're vain! My husband died a few months ago!"

What she'd said had sounded emphatic, but he knew when she was lying and something wasn't quite ringing true.

"Cuddy…"

"Just call your cab and go!" she blurted out, her eyes growing glassy with as yet unwept tears.

Defiantly he shook his head.

"I'm not leaving… Not until you tell me what's going on."

"Because the last time you found out I was sick ended really well, didn't it?" Visibly upset, she ran her palm over her forehead and looked away from him. "I'm not your responsibility, so go home."

"Actually you are!" he spat back with more force than he'd initially intended, making her head snap back around in surprise. "And I'm not just saying that because I've suddenly found out we happen to have a child."

They'd been bound up with each other since they'd met all those years ago, and in each other's orbits throughout hugely important moments in their lives. For a long time after the crash, he'd thought those ties had been irreparably severed, but he'd been wrong. What he'd done had bound him to her more than ever, and he suspected the same was true for her. As easy as it would be to distance himself from her like she professed she wanted him to, he couldn't do it. He refused to repeat past mistakes and run away. It had never gotten him anywhere in the long run. If he could be there for Wilson, he had to find a way to be there for her.

Silently Cuddy turned her back to him and walked into the bedroom, dropping to the floor at the end of her bed, and pulling her knees up under her chin. From a few feet away House watched her staring at the wall and he couldn't remember her ever looking so forlorn, so completely desolate. Not even the night he'd gone to her home when the first adoption had fallen through. Placing the bottles back in the cabinet, he limped into the room and tentatively lowered himself down next to her.

"There is Advil in there. You should take some for your leg."

"Screw my leg!" In that moment that was the last thing on his mind, in spite of the throbbing in his thigh that seemed to be demanding his attention like a spoilt child. This was more important. She was more important. "You going to talk to me, or do I have to bring in the Nazi interrogators?"

As if she had the weight of the World on her shoulders, she sighed deeply, reluctantly coming to the conclusion it was pointless not being honest with him over her condition. He used to be an incredible doctor, he'd get to the bottom of it sooner or later anyway.

"The panic attacks started a couple of days after the crash… I'd left Rachel with my sister and went to New York to find us somewhere to live, and when I was looking around one apartment I started hyperventilating out of the blue... I could manage them while I was pregnant, but after Gabriel was born they got worse. I stopped functioning properly, and I had to find a way to cope so I could be there for my little girl and my baby." She paused and let her head lean back against the metal bedstead. "You must find this hilarious. The control freak finally cracked!"

"Hilarious is the last thing I find this," he retorted seriously, fixing his gaze on his own part of the wall in front of them. "What's the diagnosis? Panic disorder." She nodded, and he hung his head in response. "Every time I think I've got a handle on how much I fucked up, it keeps on getting worse."

"Hormonal fluctuations during and after pregnancy can trigger panic attacks."

"And I suppose me parking my car in your dining room a few days before your first attack was just a coincidence?"

"I'm dealing with it," she responded curtly, still refusing to look at him.

"That medicine cabinet full of SSRI's and Xanax says you're not!... Jesus, Cuddy! You barely ever used to take Aspirin for a headache."

Wryly, she snorted.

"Oh I appreciate the irony of me being the one who pops the pills these days!" Finally she craned her neck to the side, and her eyes met his. "It is what it is."

"Who else knows?"

"Just you and me now… I only ever told Jonathan. I couldn't deal with my Mom telling me to pull myself together, and my sister giving me that concerned look every time she sees me… They drive me crazy enough as it is."

"I'm sorry," he said nervously. "I know you probably don't want to hear it…"

"There was a time when I'd probably have slapped you if you'd tried to apologise to me."

"And now?" he queried, keeping one eye on her hand just in case.

"So much has happened. To both of us… I'm so sick of being angry with you. It takes up too much energy and I'm tired, House."

He knew exactly what she meant. Getting older and everything that had gone on in the interim since she'd left had diminished his stomach for arguing in any context, let alone with her. Perhaps he was mellowing. Perhaps they both were.

"I'd do anything to go back and undo what I did, but I can't." It was a candid statement. On nights where he couldn't sleep, scenarios where he'd simply driven away plagued him. It all seemed like such a huge waste now. "They made me see a shrink while I was on the detox programme in prison… We talked about you. About the crash. Other stuff too… She asked me why I didn't hire a lawyer and use PTSD as a defence. After everything that's happened in my life she thought there was every chance I would have either got off, or gotten a lighter sentence."

"So why didn't you?" Cuddy pressed.

"Because even if it was the case, I couldn't live with the fact that when I span my car around and put my foot on the gas, the only thing in my mind was wanting to make you hurt as much as I was hurting… You were moving on with your life, and I was going to have to sit back and watch again whilst someone else got the life I wanted… I just snapped… In that moment, blowing up my entire life seemed like the most logical thing to. It even felt good when I walked away, because there's something so liberating about screwing up so spectacularly there's no going back." He stopped for a second, and let the air filter out of his lungs. The memory physically hurt now. Out all the dangerous and reckless things he'd done, that was always going to be his greatest shame. "And then you come down from that high and you realise you could have killed one of the few people who've ever actually mattered to you… It doesn't matter how I try to justify it in my head, and believe me I have, the guy I was that day scares me… I had to face the consequences… For your sake and mine."

Having no idea how she was going to respond to that confession, he tried to gauge her reaction. She simply frowned.

"You saw me having dinner with Jerry?" she inquired quizzically.

He nodded.

"I get why you lied to me about not seeing anybody else… I blackmailed you into coming to my wedding. I had no right to ask, let alone get pissed about it."

"I didn't lie."

"What?"

"I didn't lie," she repeated adamantly. "I met the guy randomly in a coffee shop earlier that day… He knew my sister and she browbeat me into inviting him over for dinner."

Reliving that moment where he'd looked into her dining room, something didn't add up for him.

"When I saw you through the window, you looked happy."

"It used to be my job to look happy when I'm actually bored to tears, House." As if she couldn't fathom something, Cuddy shook her head. "At the time all that meal was confirming to me was that I wasn't ready for another relationship, no matter how much Julia forced the issue… I was still hurting too. I was just better at hiding it… I know I wasn't the best girlfriend when we were together. That I nagged you over stupid things, and that we were terrible at trying to find some kind of balance between work and our personal time, but I needed to know you'd be there for me when I really needed you, and you weren't."

"It was one pill!" he interrupted defensively.

"And if the tumour had been malignant one pill would have led to two, to three and then four back then. You would never have been able to deal with that… I couldn't be responsible for you spiralling out of control again, and I didn't want to be in relationship with someone who never made me feel like they had my back when the worst came to the worst, especially with Rachel around."

"I warned you I was no good for someone with a kid when we first got together."

"I know," she said solemnly. "I let my heart rule my head." Suddenly she shook her head as if she was contradicting herself. "I'm not even sure if that was the problem. Rachel liked you. Aside from the odd hiccup, you were good with her… We'd known each other for so long, and then we started acting like strangers around one another. It was like we expected to screw it up, so we did… After I broke up with you I wanted you to prove me wrong. You'd spent years doing exactly that, and the one time I need you to…"

She didn't finish her sentence. Instead it hung in the air like her wish that had never amounted to anything. Feeling like a complete idiot, House screwed his eyes shut tightly, the realisation that he'd messed everything up so needlessly hitting him like a punch to the gut. Years of his life, years where he could have witnessed his son being born and growing up, had fallen victim to his pride, wilfulness and then a needless act of violence.

"Fuck!"

"Yeah, fuck!" Straightening her legs out in the space in front of her, Cuddy seemed to relax, her hand reaching up to stifle a yawn. "The only good thing to come from me having to move away was meeting Jonathan."

It was a throwaway comment, but immediately after she'd said it and saw the dejected look on House's face, she regretted it. Next to her, he squared his jaw like he was bracing himself for bad news.

"Did you love him more than me?"

"Do we really have to do this now?" she asked exhaustedly. A part of her knew this conversation was bound to happen. He was the type of person who wouldn't let up until he had a satisfactory answer, but that didn't mean that the question didn't irritate her all the same. Ever since she'd known him he'd always needed subtle reassurances. It was rare that he'd be this blunt about seeking them out.

Coolly he rubbed his thigh, and glowered at a patch of the beige carpet near his foot.

"It took me about ten seconds to realise I still felt something for you after the initial shock of seeing you again… I need boundaries, Cuddy. I need to know that if in the unlikely event that you ever did think of me in that way ever again, that I'm not the guy you turned to because the love of your life died."

"That's not fair!" she spat back indignantly. "I was forty-two years old when I met Jonathan, and before that you were the only man I'd ever been in love with… You had Stacy!"

"Stacy was different."

"How?"

Fumbling for an answer, his mouth opened and closed several times. She had a point. That didn't make what he was trying to explain any less pertinent however. Ever since he was tiny he'd felt like he wasn't good enough. His Father had put a cycle into motion that he'd repeated in most of his adult relationships. His Mother was vocal about what a wonderful son he was, and yet she kept her distance, even during the times he'd needed her the most; Stacy had made it plain to him he was the thing she coveted precisely because she shouldn't during their brief affair behind her husband's back; Lydia had appeared to connect with him when he was at his most vulnerable, and then wasn't prepared to take the risk to break away from her marriage; and then she'd appeared in his bathroom that night telling him she loved him, but that she wished she didn't.

"I've spent my life feeling like I'm second best… Even if it means I have to find a way to bury what I feel for you, I won't go there again… I won't compete with somebody else's ghost, because that would never work for either of us… I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to try and be some sort of Father to Gabriel when he's had somebody else filling that role already. Or even why you'd want me to."

"He was never his Dad, House," she said softly. "Gabe was four months old when I met Jonathan, and as much as he tried to bond with him while we were seeing each other, he just wouldn't click with him. He'd cry if I tried to let him hold him… They were so different too. The older he got, the more obvious it was… Jonathan was so straight-forward. What he said, he meant. There was no hidden agenda, no need to keep guessing what was going on in his mind. If he was upset, he'd tell me… My boy's like you. He pretends. He keeps secrets, because he's easily hurt… He's an enigma." She smiled warmly at her former boyfriend. "The older he gets, the more I realise he needs someone who sees the World in the same way he does… He needs you."

"And what if your husband hadn't died?"

"Sooner or later, he would have needed you in his life… I nearly told you about him so many times."

Relieved, House nodded his head. It felt good to know he wasn't wasting his time with Gabriel at least, even if the five year old was evidently intent on not making things easy for him.

"What about you, Cuddy? What do you need?"

Processing what he'd asked her, her mind went back to his original question. For honesty's sake, he did deserve an answer.

"When I met Jonathan I did fall for him pretty hard… There was this sweet, kind, handsome, dependable guy, who was a partner in a law firm, and who didn't seem to mind that I was a single parent with two children…. It wasn't even like it was with Lucas. I knew I had a chance to finally have a proper adult relationship with someone I really loved, so when he proposed I accepted… We were married within a few months…"

Not sure how much more about her perfect relationship he could listen to, House fidgeted and felt the need to interrupt.

"Thanks for letting me know where I stand."

"Will you just shut up and listen for once?" she countered irately. Quietly acquiescing, he gave a brief bob of his head. "I hated you with every fibre of my being… As far as I was concerned, you were this horrible mistake that had taken up far too much of my life."

"And?" She wasn't telling him anything he hadn't anticipated.

"And then I got a call from my Mom… She'd seen your face on the front page of the local newspaper, read the article, and then picked up the phone straight away to tell me that you'd died in a fire." When she turned to look him in the eye, he saw a tear fall down her cheek and her lip quiver. "I've never felt a pain like it, House. Not even when Jonathan died."

"You didn't come to my funeral."

In response, Cuddy snorted at how bizarre the statement sounded.

"You wanted me to turn it into a bigger circus than it already was?" A little embarrassed, he let his gaze fall back to the floor. "I grieved for you… I used to lie in bed awake at night hoping against hope that it wasn't real, because even though I'd kidded myself that I still despised you, I didn't want you dead. I wanted you to find some sort of peace… I wasn't even angry when I found out what had really happened. I was relieved." Again she paused, this time to wipe away the dampness from her cheek. "My marriage changed after that… Jonathan said I changed. That my head was always somewhere else. Whenever we'd argue it'd always come back to you, because he didn't understand how I could still feel anything for the man, who'd turned my life upside down… It didn't help that Gabe would be so difficult with him either. Before he died we'd been talking about separating."

"We both have amazing track records with relationships," he sniggered.

"I did love him, House, but he was right. My head was elsewhere… I'm not even sure I can make sense of it. I just know that however far we try to run away from one another, we always end up gravitating back to the same place… I missed you, and I hated pretending I didn't."

"Me too," he replied tenderly, moving his hand next to hers and letting his little finger graze hers in a delicate gesture. "So where does that leave us?"

Taking a deep breath, Cuddy slowly let herself exhale. The last thing she wanted was to set the wheels in motion on a runaway train. They had to learn from their mistakes, and not go in head first this time.

"I'm not ready for another relationship. Not yet… My children have to come first. They're still adjusting to the move… We've all got to readjust to you being a part of our family now."

"Ok," he agreed, the promise of being part of something at all making a ghost of a smile fleet across his lips. "I can wait."

She grinned back at him wearily, her tiredness obviously getting the better of her.

"Good."

Having been given peace of mind, House stifled a yawn and glanced down at his watch again. In disbelief, he realised it was now after one in the morning.

"Now it's really late. I should call that cab."

Just as he was about to push himself up, he felt her hand on his wrist pulling him back down.

"It's too late for you to be going back now," she insisted. "Especially with your leg like that. You can stay here."

"On the sofa?"

She shook her head.

"You'd be more comfortable in here with me."

"So now I'm getting really mixed signals," he shot back humorously, instantly making her roll her eyes.

"It wasn't a proposition, House… And if you've still got a libido after that conversation, then there's something wrong with you." Tiredly she got to her feet and held her hands out to help pull him up. Creakily, between the two of them, they managed it, her eyes betraying her concern when he winced at the pain. "Take the weight off it and lie down," she ordered, the doctor in her once more rising to the surface. "I'll get changed in the bathroom, and bring you back some Advil."

Following her advice he sat down on the side of the bed and began to remove his sneakers, looking on as she rifled through one of her drawers, found what she was looking for and headed towards the bathroom.

"I hope it's something short and silky," he cracked lasciviously.

"In your dreams!" she called back, closing the door behind her. "I'm also kicking your ass out before the kids wake up."

"You're a cruel, cruel woman, Lisa Cuddy!"

As he swung his legs onto the bed, he heard her chuckle throatily and contentedly settled his hands behind his head. He'd missed her laugh. He'd missed having the opportunity to make her laugh.

As he stared up at her bedroom ceiling, he knew one thing for certain: if he screwed this up again, he'd never be able to forgive himself.


	7. Chapter 7

_Big thanks to everybody who read, reviewed, favourited and alerted the last chapter. You're all awesome! I always look forward to hearing your thoughts after I post. :)_

_Regarding Cuddy's age, I tend to ignore the info we were given in S7 when I'm writing fics and go by her S5 age, which suggested she was actually 39 back then after lying about her age to get her job. Sorry if that's confusing. _

_Gabe is a figment of my imagination. The rest I merely borrow._

* * *

A little restlessly House sat in the chair in Cuddy's living room and drummed his fingers on the arm, looking on as Rachel dropped unceremoniously onto the sofa after buttoning up her jacket. Judging by the scowl on her face, she seemed equally as fed up with waiting. Moments later her Mom appeared from the hall, still securing an earring in her ear and apparently scanning the room at the same time, her eyes momentarily meeting House's and then moving elsewhere when he smirked at her, one corner of her mouth ticking upwards into a conspiratorial smile of her own.

Nothing had happened the night before last when he'd stayed over, but that didn't mean they hadn't enjoyed the close proximity. In their sleep they'd drifted towards one another, Cuddy's leg unconsciously hooking over his thigh as she nestled into his neck and his hand splayed possessively over the small of her back. When her alarm had gone off neither of them had wanted to move, but necessity had called for it. They'd made arrangements to do something the day after, and quietly he'd sneaked out of the house before either Rachel or Gabe had woken up. Now, here they were waiting to go out.

"Where's your brother?" Cuddy asked, drawing a shrug from her daughter. Compelled to find out for herself, she strode back into the hall and bellowed his name. A few seconds later he opened his bedroom door and walked barefoot towards her, his head hanging low. "I told you to put your shoes on."

"I don't feel well."

Waiting for him to reach her, she cupped her palm against his forehead and frowned.

"You don't feel like you have a temperature."

"My stomach hurts." To emphasise his point he looked up at her pathetically and rubbed his tummy.

"You were fine ten minutes ago."

"It hurts!" he insisted, stomping his foot and threatening to burst into tears.

"Ok! Ok!" Clasping his hand, she lead him into the living room and sat down on the sofa, pulling him onto her lap. Turning to House, she regarded him apologetically. "I really don't think we'll be able to go out."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a ghost of a grin fleet across his son's lips as his head lay against his Mom's chest, and it became plainly obvious to the former diagnostician that that whole performance was part of a ploy to ruin their plans for the day.

"It's fine," he responded nonchalantly, not giving away the faintest hint that he was annoyed. He was the master of mind games, and he wasn't going to be outwitted by a five year old. "We can go out another day."

Unimpressed Rachel threw her arms into the air in disgust.

"Oh Mom! I was going to buy some new sneakers!"

"There's nothing I can do if your brother's sick."

"Can't House take me?"

Taken aback by the question, Cuddy floundered to give her an answer.

"I… I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why not?" the young girl persisted, briefly glancing out of the window. "I saw his car in the drive."

"All of us were meant to be going out together… I'm sure House has better things to do now that we're not."

"Actually I don't," he put forward honestly. His work-free days were usually spent in front of the TV eating cereal, or playing his piano until his neighbours took offence and banged on the floor. "If she wants me to take her, I can. It's up to you."

Unable to hide her surprise, his ex-girlfriend appeared dumb-founded. Offering to give up his afternoon to take a nine year old to the shops was hardly part of his usual M.O. There was an issue of trust there too. Yes, she knew he was trying to make an effort, but could she really entrust her daughter to his care so soon after they'd started to build bridges again? Searching his face for an answer, she eventually nodded cautiously.

"Alright… But if there are any problems you call me straight away."

"Straight away," he repeated reassuringly, hauling himself to his feet and gesturing for Rachel to get up too.

Watching her daughter walk over to him, Cuddy couldn't help but wonder if this was going to end badly.

"You're sure you don't mind being dragged around the mall by a nine year old?"

House shook his head adamantly.

"If she gets on my nerves I'll just tell security she's been shoplifting." Simultaneously the other three people in the room glowered at him. "Oh for God's sake! It was a joke!... I really don't mind. I wanted to pick up a couple of things too."

"If you're sure?" Cuddy pressed again.

Irritatedly he rolled his eyes.

"Yes!"

"Then you'd better behave yourself, young lady."

"Yes, Mom!" Rachel sighed impatiently.

Sternly, Cuddy set her sights on the guy who was going to be responsible for her.

"And you better behave yourself too!"

"Yes, Mom!" he answered sarcastically, instantly making her purse her lips. He knew this was a leap of faith on her part, so he had to act sensibly if she was going to take his wish to be a part of their lives seriously. "We'll honestly be fine… The sooner we go, the sooner we'll come back."

She nodded in agreement, her reticence however still evident in the way she was inaudibly pleading with him to not screw this up.

"Then you'd better go."

Getting the message, he began walking towards the front door with Rachel in tow, soon opening it and letting her go out before him.

"I'll see you guys later," he called back, soliciting a verbal farewell from Cuddy, but a conspicuous silence from his son. Looking back over his shoulder, he caught Gabe watching him leave with what looked like a mixture of jealousy and regret, and smiled to himself.

The player had been played.

* * *

Trying to concentrate on the road as he drove, House couldn't help but notice Rachel trying to turn the radio on, her finger tapping the power and

"It doesn't work."

"Then why don't you get it fixed?" she threw back, like it was the most obvious thing in the World.

Trying to hide his annoyance, House sighed. Obviously her and her brother had never had to go without anything that they really wanted.

"I haven't exactly got the cash at the moment." It was the truth. He wasn't living hand to mouth, but his wages didn't stretch to major luxuries these days. That was a thing of the past.

"Sorry," Rachel murmured back, genuinely embarrassed that she'd presumed it remained broken because he couldn't be bothered to have it fixed.

"It's not your fault I bought a heap of junk." Momentarily glancing at her, he smiled warmly and she responded in kind.

With the remnants of the smile still on her face, the girl turned away to look out of the window at the rows of houses they were passing. For long minutes they sat in an affable silence, him carefully navigating the traffic, her quietly taking in the neighbourhood they were going through on the way to the mall.

"Do you remember me?" she eventually inquired sheepishly.

"I only had dinner with you guys on Friday night… I know I'm old, but my memory's not that bad."

"I meant when I was little. When you used to be my Mom's boyfriend." She paused and looked at him thoughtfully. "Sometimes I remember us watching cartoons and playing hide and seek."

Surprisingly relieved that he hadn't been blocked out from her consciousness, House found himself grinning. He'd wanted to ask her the other night, maybe even mention it to Cuddy, but other matters had gotten in the way.

"Sometimes I used to leave you hiding for ages."

"I know… That was a pretty mean thing to do." It wasn't a particularly venomous statement, more slightly disapproving, almost as if she felt compelled to trot out a response that her Mom might have given.

"You wait until you have kids of your own," he cracked jovially. "Three year olds can be pretty annoying."

Mischievously she smirked back at him, and gave a knowing look.

"I used to do the same thing to Gabe when he wouldn't leave me and my friends alone… You can't tell my Mom though."

House chuckled.

"Your secret's safe with me… Believe me, if your Mom knew everything I did behind her back when I worked for her, I probably wouldn't still be alive."

Expecting her to laugh along with him, she didn't. Instead she focused on the car they'd had to stop behind, her brow knitting as if something was on her mind.

"Why did you crash your car into our house?" Rachel asked suddenly with a bluntness that knocked the air out of his lungs. How was he supposed to explain that to a nine year old? It'd been hard enough finding the words to explain it to Cuddy, therefore he had to test the water.

"What were you told?"

"That you broke up and then you started taking drugs again… That you did some stupid things, and then you lost your temper and drove into our home."

Hearing her talk so matter-of-factly about such a defining time in his life, House felt nauseous. As young as she was then, it had obviously affected and confounded her too. It didn't matter that he knew she wasn't there at the time, no matter how much he'd used that as a justification to the parole board and to assuage his own guilt, his actions could have left her without a Mother.

"I was a mess after your Mom dumped me." He let the air filter out of his lungs and continued to watch the road, fully aware that the girl next to him was observing him closely. "It doesn't excuse what I did, but I wasn't thinking straight… There's not a day goes by that I don't regret it."

"Did you love her?"

He hesitated for a second, reeling once more from another question that cut to the chase. Admitting he was attached to someone had always been difficult for him at the best of times, let alone in these circumstances. Various degrees of neglect and instances of abandonment throughout his life had always made him wary of such declarations, but he was aware of the need to be honest here. He'd always hated being lied to as a kid, so why would Rachel be any different? Swallowing his natural inclination to deflect, he answered her sincerely.

"Yeah, I did. Very much… Still do."

Apparently satisfied, Rachel nodded her head and looked nosily into the car cruising in the lane next to them, screwing her nose up at the absurd looking terrier with a fluorescent pink bow tied in its hair that perched on a cushion in the backseat.

"My Gran says it's not the mistakes you make that are important, it's how you deal with them afterwards."

Mulling over Arlene's words of wisdom, House turned into the car park and began to look for a space.

"Let's just hope your Gran's right for once."

* * *

"You could have waited until you got home to put them on," Cuddy asserted as she watched her daughter proudly parading her new sneakers up and down the living room.

"House said it was ok."

Immediately he threw his hand up in the air defensively, whilst perching on the arm of the sofa where he'd flopped after they'd come back in.

"Who am I to come between a Cuddy woman and her shoes?"

"They look expensive… I hope you didn't spend all of the money you'd saved." Shyly Rachel glanced down at the floor and bit her lip as if she wasn't sure what to say, straight away making her Mom fear the worst. "Please tell me you didn't spend all of it!"

"She didn't spend any of it," House cut in. "I paid for them."

Perplexed she frowned at him, and then seemed to sigh resignedly. It wouldn't surprise her if this was a plan they'd cooked up between the two of them.

"Remind me later and I'll pay you back."

"You don't have to… It was a present for making my first shopping trip with a nine year old ten times less excruciating than I thought it would be."

Smiling at Rachel, she returned the gesture. In spite of himself, he had enjoyed the day out and she seemed to as well. They'd discussed everything from the music they both liked to the escaped pet gerbil she'd accidently killed when she'd unintentionally sucked it up the Hoover, along with a whole plethora of other topics that helped fill in the gaps since they'd last known each other. Despite his protestations that she was a pain to be around all those years ago, deep down he'd grown to like her company to the point that he'd found himself missing her too when his and Cuddy's relationship had broken down. The letter she'd had her Mom write him the night he'd operated on his leg had also indicated that she'd missed having him around too. That she'd grown up to be a laid-back, funny, but vocal kid, who seemed predisposed to giving him the benefit of the doubt, was a huge relief: he wanted her to like him.

"Rach, can you give House and me a minute?" Cuddy asked politely.

"He's not in trouble is he?" Concern etched itself over the girl's features. "If I have to I'll take them back."

"He's not in trouble and you don't have to take them back," her Mom reassured her. "I just want to talk to House in private for a little while. Ok?"

Hesitantly Rachel nodded and proceeded to leave the room, flashing House a tentative smile on the way, before bounding down the hall and leaving them alone. Without giving him time to regroup his thoughts, Cuddy turned to face him.

"I can't let you pay for them."

"Why not?" he shot back, sliding down onto the seat next to her, and twirling his cane between his fingers like a majorette with a baton.

"Because it's too much."

"Isn't that up to me to decide?"

"I know you can't afford to spend that kind of money on a gift."

Annoyed, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. His current financial situation was not something he wanted thrown in his face. It was a delicate enough issue for his pride as it was, especially as she was more than financially solvent, in spite of her current employment status.

"And again, isn't that up to me to decide?"

Sensing his irritation, Cuddy softened her tone.

"I just don't want you to feel you have to do this to smooth things over. Rachel already likes you."

"And this is exactly why I've avoided doing nice things for most of my life," he responded miserably, turning away and sulking. "Everybody always thinks I have an agenda."

Nudging him with her elbow to get his attention, she smirked as he regarded her grumpily. He was always predictably moody when he was caught out doing a good deed.

"You've got to admit that's because that usually is the case."

"I bought something for Gabe, and I didn't want her to feel left out," he said quietly. "I know we're not together properly yet, but this isn't going to work at all if I treat them differently… She's a good kid."

Taken aback by his candour, Cuddy placed her hand over his and watched as his fingers threaded through hers, the contact reminding her of the night he'd spent in her bed. She really hadn't wanted him to leave, but it was far too soon for them to complicate matters. Establishing a stable environment for the kids first had to be their priority.

"I know she is… But that doesn't mean I don't still worry about you spending money you don't have…" Without letting her finish her sentence, House grunted and rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do however… Well, I'm going to make an effort to not tell you what you can and can't do. Within reason."

House shrugged.

"There are some occasions I don't mind being bossed around." Cheekily he raised an eyebrow at her, and saw one corner of her mouth creep upwards.

"And you're just going to have to be patient on that front," she countered coyly.

"I don't see what the big deal is. I mean we already slept together… Speaking of which…" Diving into the inside pocket of his jacket, House pulled out a small box and tossed it into her lap. "I didn't want you to feel left out either."

Picking the box up, Cuddy turned it over and read the label, a large white typeface on a blue background telling her they were anti-snoring strips.

"I do not snore!"

"You kind of do," he contradicted, getting to his feet and looking down at her, his expression remaining deadpan. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Plenty of women snore like a freight train." Seeing her visibly lost for words, House bit the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from laughing. "Is Gabe in his room?"

"Yeah…" Confused she looked back down at the box in her hand, and quickly dropped it on the coffee table. "What did you get him?"

"It's near the door."

Twisting her whole body around, Cuddy saw the leather carry case in the hall and immediately her face lit up.

"He'll love it… He just won't admit it straight away."

"Then it's a good job I'm renowned for being persistent."

Determined to bite the bullet, House knocked on Gabe's door and walked in without waiting for an answer, quickly finding himself having to adjust to the lack of light in the bedroom due to the closed curtains. Squinting he saw the five year old sat cross-legged on his bed, a spectrum of colours from the television screen lighting up his features, as he clearly fought to ignore the new presence in the room. Slowly closing the door behind himself, he span back around and recalibrated himself to his surroundings, feeling oddly disorientated in the darkness.

As his eyes adjusted, next to him he could make out a bookcase which held various junior encyclopaedias and reading books, including a well-thumbed copy of _James and the Giant Peach_. Above it on the wall was a poster depicting the night sky, various constellations illuminated against the darkness. To the left of him was a desk adorned with various toy cars, trucks and planes, and a lamp, which he duly switched on, making Gabe blink and rub his eyes against the new light source.

"What do you want?" the five year old asked curtly, surprised when his father closed the gap between them and unceremoniously flopped down onto his bed, and placed the black case at his feet.

"I thought I'd see how you were feeling seen as you were sick earlier."

"I'm better."

"Cool!" House answered casually, purposefully not bothering to look in the boy's direction, as he opened the zip on the case beneath him and pulled out a junior acoustic guitar. Still ignoring his son, he immediately set to turning the instrument, his fingers plucking the strings and adjusting the machine heads accordingly; all the while he could feel himself being watched until eventually Gabe took the bait.

"It's too small for you."

"I had no idea it was National State the Obvious Day." Adjusting the last string he finally turned and looked him in the eye. "It's not mine. It's yours."

Offering him the guitar, the small boy eyed him sceptically.

"You can't make me like you by giving me things."

"Nobody can make anybody like them, but sadly for you, you can't choose your parents… I figured I missed five chances to give you a birthday present, so…" Again he held it out for his son to take, once more meeting indecision. "If you don't want it, I can take it back to the shop and get my money back."

"No!" Gabe exclaimed, a little more emphatically than he would have liked. "I mean it's ok. I like it." Cautiously he reached out and took it from his Dad, his fingertips gliding over the patina on the wood in fascination as he laid it over his legs. Looking up again he uttered a quiet, but sincere "Thank you" that unexpectedly brought a lump to House's throat.

"You're welcome."

"This doesn't mean we're best friends though."

"I'm not a complete idiot," House snorted, awkwardly pushing himself up and limping back towards the door. Playing it cool was an essential part of his plan. "You can let me know if you want me to teach you how to play."

Managing to keep a straight face as he exited the room, a pair of voices snapped his attention to the front door and instantly his feet glued to the spot, his good mood swiftly evaporating. As Cuddy stared at him pensively, Julia stepped out from behind her to get a better view of the man less than ten feet away from them down the hall, her initial shock soon morphing into out and out fury.

"You have got to be kidding me!"


	8. Chapter 8

_So we're up to Chapter 8 already! Thanks to everybody who read, reviewed favourited and alerted in the last week. You're fabulous as ever!_

_Julia's an interesting one to write for. It's really hard not to make her into an arch villain given what we know about her from S7. I've tried to tone her down a little, but expect some fireworks! In spite of her shortcomings, she is entitled to be a bit annoyed with House._

_Not mine etc._

* * *

For what seemed like an eternity, nobody moved. Julia silently eyed House like she was gearing up for a spaghetti Western-style shoot-out, her fists clenching and a snarl curling her lip as she waited for her sister to give her an explanation. Down the hall, still poised next to his son's bedroom door, the object of her disdain stared back coolly. For most of his life confrontation had been an everyday occurrence, and there was no way in Hell he was going to let her intimidate him, especially as he knew she'd do everything she could to jeopardise the burgeoning re-establishment of his relationship with both Cuddy and Rachel, and try to stamp on any realistic chance of him starting one with Gabriel.

Stuck bang in the middle of the impasse, Cuddy knew she was the one who had to act.

"We're not doing this where the kids can hear us," she said quietly, grabbing hold of her sister's wrist and dragging her through the living room and into the kitchen. From a distance House followed, hovering about a foot behind his ex and then stopping a step away from her next to the fridge when they came to a standstill.

"Well?" Julia quizzed her older sibling caustically.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to tell me why this asshole is in your home?"

"That's asshole who saved your son's life to you," he interjected sarcastically, crossing his arms as the younger sister regarded him irately.

"Is he for real?!"

Turning her head back, Cuddy looked at him imploringly. The situation was difficult enough without him making matters worse by winding an already volatile person up, no matter how much of a point he had. Realising the distress she was in, his expression softened in a wordless recognition of what she needed him to do and he nodded, resolving to keep his mouth shut. For the time being.

"He's Gabe's father. He has every right to be part of his life."

"Every right?" Julia shot back incredulously. "He could have killed him before he was even born… He could have made our children orphans… I don't even know how you can bear to have him near you! He makes my skin crawl!"

Taking a breath, Cuddy looked down at the tiled floor beneath her feet and lay her hand on the marble surface next her in an attempt to ground herself as her anxiety levels began to escalate. This was the last thing she needed.

"We've talked things through… He's paid enough for what he did."

"A few years in prison are supposed to make up for attempting to murder four people?" Angrily she leant further forward towards her sister to emphasise her point. "Are you _both_ insane?"

When Cuddy didn't react straight away, House knew something was wrong. Her shoulders rose up and down more acutely and her eyes seemed to dart around the room as if she was desperate to focus elsewhere. Sensing she was perhaps on the verge of a panic attack, he stepped forward and clutched her hand, instantly attuned to the tightness of her grip, and then turned his attention to the culprit.

"Back off!"

Apparently stunned by his show of solidarity, Julia took a step back and let her gaze lower to where their hands were joined, shock soon being replaced with rage.

"Please tell me you're not screwing him again!… I warned you what would happen if you told him about Gabe. He always finds a way to worm his way back into your life… How can you have been so stupid?"

"How is our sleeping arrangement any of your goddamn business?" House spat back furiously.

"I didn't ask you!"

"You honestly think I'm going to stand back and let you talk down to her like she's a child?"

"For God's sake, will you both shut up!" Cuddy screeched, her free hand reaching up rub her forehead, as the two people around her stopped their bickering abruptly. Sighing to herself she finally regarded her sister. "I know you don't understand it, and that you probably never will, but I love him and I want him to be part of my future…. Our future as a family." She paused momentarily and saw Julia flex her jaw scornfully. Next to her House tenderly brushed his thumb over one of her knuckles. "We never should have broken up in the first place without trying to deal with our problems head on. I'm just as responsible for that as he is."

Apparently processing what she'd just said, Julia puffed her cheeks out and looked away.

"I feel sick. This whole thing makes me feel sick!... This isn't love, Lisa. It's an addiction… You two circle each other, you let him in, he hurts you and then you go right back to the start again. That's not normal."

"Things have changed!" Cuddy insisted, drawing an unconvinced snort from her sister.

"And what happens when you piss him off again?... Is he going to beat the crap out you? Or maybe he'll take it out on the kids this time?"

Startled by her words, House's eyes widened in horror. The mere suggestion that he'd be capable of such a thing hurt him to his core. He'd been on the receiving end of that kind of abuse at the hands of his Father, and the insinuation that he could do the same felt like a fundamental miscalculation of who he really was. He hated bullies. His contempt for them had nearly landed him in prison when he'd taken on Tritter out of principle. It had also made him loathe himself after the crash. No matter how many distractions he found for himself, sometimes, often on the nights he couldn't sleep, the guilt had been cripplingly acute.

"I'd never lay a finger on her or the kids."

"I don't believe you," Julia sneered at him, quickly turning her attention to her sister and placing her palm over her other hand that still rested on the kitchen counter. "Lisa, I know you've had a hard time since Jonathan died, but you're not thinking straight… Look at him! He's a violent jerk, who can't even do the one thing he's good at anymore… He has nothing to offer you or them."

Stuck between the two of them, Cuddy felt she was being pulled in two directions, like a toy being fought over by two spoilt children. Needing to break free she removed both of her hands from their respective grips, and tucked them in her jeans' pockets.

"You're wrong. About all of it. House has everything to offer me and the kids… I'm not going to kick him out of mine and my children's lives just because you refuse to let your grudge go. He made a mistake. A huge, stupid, dangerous mistake, and he paid for that in ways you have no idea about… I'm not going to punish him even more, and make myself miserable in the process."

For several seconds Julia responded with a stony silence, a tiny wobble of her lip betraying the chink in her armour.

"Then I don't have a choice," she finally countered, her eyes becoming glassy with tears. "As long as you keep this lunatic around, me, my husband and my children can't come anywhere near you."

Aghast, Cuddy's mouth hung open.

"That's ridiculous!"

"No, it's not… If you want to be pulled under by this asshole again then that's up to you, but I won't be dragged down with you. I've got to put the safety of my own family first."

"What am I supposed to tell Rachel and Gabe?"

Wiping a tear away from her eye, Julia shrugged.

"Tell them the truth… That you're putting your warped need to be with him over their need to see their family."

"Wow!" House cut in, shaking his head in disbelief. "Emotional blackmail? And I'm meant to be the asshole?"

"If you cared one bit about her, you'd walk away for good. Everything you touch, you poison!" Looking away from him, she made eye contact with Cuddy. "When you're mulling this over, remember I was the one who held your hand when you were screaming in agony giving birth to Gabe, and then remember where he was at the time and the reason he was there." Turning on her heel without giving them a chance to respond, she walked to the doorway and promptly stopped in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at her sister. "Oh and the reason I came here tonight was to tell you that Joe should be out of hospital in a few days, but hey, what does that matter?"

Sorely tempted to comment on his part in making that happen, House forced himself to bite his tongue and watch Julia walk away, her departure signalled by the slamming of the front door. Turning back to Cuddy, he saw the stunned look on her face and instinctively touched her arm out of concern.

"You ok?"

Swiftly she swatted his hand away, and rounded the counter to head outside.

"I need some space."

* * *

House had been tempted to leave without telling her, but the conscience he'd often professed not to have pricked at him. Sure he was angry that Cuddy had pushed him away when she'd so often called him out for doing exactly the same thing, hypocrisy always riled him, however he was worried about her and more than a little worried about what Julia's ultimatum realistically meant for them.

After fifteen minutes of intermittent pacing, he finally followed her outside, exiting the kitchen through the door that opened out onto the garden, and found her sat on the edge of the built-up patio with her back to him, her feet dangling onto the lawn beneath.

"I thought I should probably go home."

Twisting her head back, she looked up at him and bit her lip, wet tracks of shed tears staining her cheeks.

"I'd rather you didn't right now."

Taking the hint, House slowly lowered himself down next to her and looked around the lawn, quietly enjoying the autumnal breeze against his face for a moment before he spoke.

"So your sister's a huge fan of mine then?" he cracked wryly.

"She'll come around eventually."

"Really?"

Cuddy paused for thought, and then sighed wearily.

"I honestly don't know… She's about as stubborn as I am."

"Forcing you to choose was wrong," he said quietly.

"No kidding!" she threw back, trying to sound jovial, but the strain of the confrontation showing in her voice. Watching her frown as she looked up at the dusky sky, he knew she was in pain. Her family mattered to her, even if she'd done her best to avoid them at times, just like he had.

"I could take the decision out your hands."

"Meaning?" she pressed.

"Meaning maybe she was right about me poisoning everything I touch… I never had the balls to say no to you that night you came to my apartment and we hooked up, even though I knew it couldn't work out... I don't want to make the same mistake twice."

"So everything you said the other night was bullshit?" Cuddy faltered, choking back the lump in her throat. "I stood up for you in there for nothing?"

"Of course it wasn't bullshit!" Frustratedly he grunted, and looked away. "I wanted this to work, but I promised myself I wouldn't hurt you again… We've been talking to each other for just over a week, and already me being around you is causing a problem."

"And you honestly think it wouldn't hurt me if you walked away now?"

Hating the predicament he was in, House reached down and pulled up a blade of grass and then proceeded to separate it into smaller strands with the precision of a surgeon.

"The kids would despise me if I was the reason they couldn't see their cousins… In time you'd resent me too."

Unexpectedly she scoffed at the remark.

"Because her forcing you out of my life isn't going to affect my relationship with her either?"

"As much as I hate defending her, she's doing it because she cares about you."

"She's doing it because her and my Mom never approve of anything I do," Cuddy corrected forcefully. "I am so sick of nothing ever being good enough for them… I want something for myself. _For us…_ I know if we work at this we could have something really special."

House gestured in the direction of the home behind him.

"What about them?... They've had a relationship with Julia all their lives. I'm just the guy who wandered in and out of Rachel's, and who Gabe probably couldn't care less about if I left."

"For such a smart man, you can be a complete idiot sometimes." Chuckling to herself, she shook her head. "_Gabe cares_… He's just pissed off because you weren't there in the first place, and he expects you to walk away… He has no idea if he can trust you yet."

"I am so scared of fucking this up."

"So am I," she admitted. "But maybe this time we can use that to make it work, instead of having it hang over our heads like a harbinger of doom." Reaching her hand out, she tentatively clasped his and brought them over to rest on her knee. "I thought I was going to have an attack in there."

House nodded.

"I know… I nearly told your sister to fuck off." Mischieviously he smirked at her and Cuddy followed suit.

"Knowing you had my back felt good." It was so much more than that she realised. For the first time in years, being around him was making her feel like she was stepping back into her own skin: she was more herself.

"Knowing you had my back also felt good," he confessed. Hearing her be so vocal about her belief in him had made him feel insanely proud, but that hadn't been the best bit. "I felt even better hearing you tell her you loved me."

Shyly he glanced at her, the vulnerability he was experiencing with such an admission clearly evident, and straight away Cuddy saw her son's face too: the same unease and nervousness always showed when he gave more of himself than he was strictly comfortable with.

"It's the truth. I'm not ashamed of admitting it anymore."

"You know it's the same for me?" He gulped. "You know I love you?"

Smiling with a warmth that lit up her whole face, she unlocked her hand from his and let her fingertips trace along his jaw. Reacting to her touch, House's eyelids fluttered wildly. Whenever they made physical contact there was always a spark there. Part of him felt ridiculous for allowing something that was so trivial to other people to get to him so, but much of his childhood and adulthood had consisted of long periods of time where he was devoid of any contact at all. Welcome contact at least. He'd been on the receiving end of more than his fair share of punches. She was different though: her touch felt like a cool drink of water after wandering in the desert.

"Yeah, I do. It never hurts to hear it either." Without warning he grunted and pulled her hand away, confusing her. "What?"

"I really want to kiss you right now."

Bashfully she turned her attention to the grass underneath her bare feet, her toes clawing into the ground as she felt her cheeks turn crimson.

"You made me blush. I feel about twelve!"

"You don't look twelve," House responded flirtily, letting his eyes hover over her lips and then lower over her chest. "In fact I'm going to categorically rule out you being twelve."

"And the moment is ruined!"

"No sleepover tonight then?" he countered quickly with a cheeky glint in his eye.

"No sleepovers for a long time."

"Damn!" House exclaimed. "I was hoping to share my first lesbian experience and top things off with an erotic pillow fight."

"I'm sure you'll find something to do with yourself all alone in your apartment." Coyly she grinned at him.

"If I develop RSI in my wrist, I'll blame you."

In response Cuddy scrunched up her face and looked suitably disgusted. There was no mistaking what he was talking about.

"I was going to ask you to stay for dinner, but…"

"You started this!"

"Actually you did," she clarified.

"What if I got down on my knees and begged?"

"Then you'd never get back up again."

"Did nobody ever tell you it's cruel to pick on the cripple?" he responded, pretending he was affronted. Cuddy rolled her eyes and leant forward, her hand reaching up to bring him towards her, before her mouth found his in a long, leisurely embrace that left him reeling when she pulled away. Eventually getting his bearings again, he finally found his voice. "What was that for?"

"Sometimes I have to be creative to get you to shut up."

In one fluid movement she stood up and stepped back onto the patio, holding out her hand to aid him as he also got to his feet with less grace.

"For the record, I strongly approve of this form of censorship." Craning his neck forward to reciprocate the kiss, her finger shot up and pressed against his lips, soliciting a frown from him.

"I'd hate to infringe on your human rights." And with that she turned away and began to walk back inside, purposefully exaggerating the sway of her hips as she moved, knowing full well his eyes were glued to her ass. "You sticking around for dinner?"

Happily, House smiled to himself.

"Yeah, I'm sticking around."


	9. Chapter 9

_Huge thanks and virtual cookies to everybody who read, reviewed, favourited and alerted after the last chapter. I know some of you guys have only just started reading, so welcome aboard! :) _

_There is quite a long way to go with this story with several ups and downs, of which I'm still I'm still fleshing out the finer details. I know some of you suspect that this is the calm before the storm, and you'd be right. These two are so magnificently screwed up that it seems to get more and more baffling with time that Shore et al managed to make their canon relationship so boring and two-dimensional for the most part. I'll try my best to do them a little more justice. Everybody's input is generally so astute, and I can't thank you enough for taking the time to let me know what you think. _

_Oh and sorry I've only just managed to post this chapter. I was at a friend's wedding over the weekend, and I seemed to have an extended hangover that wasn't conducive to writing anything coherent. (All my own fault, I know!)_

_They don't belong to me. I just borrow them._

* * *

With his head resting in the palm of his hand, House sighed loudly. He was bored. Mind-numbingly bored in fact. He thought being on his lunch break would somehow break the monotony of stacking the library shelves with inane tomes on seventeenth century Renaissance art, and yet somehow it didn't. Even the sandwich he'd bought managed to make him even more fed up, and serve as a further reminder that he still had several hours left before he could go home, or better still, call Cuddy and see if it was ok to drop by later. Idiotically, he found himself missing her even though it had only been a little over twelve hours since she'd finally kicked him out of her home. He'd stayed for dinner, all the while fielding critical glances from Gabe, and then when the kids had gone to bed they'd talked about anything and everything until eventually they'd both reluctantly agreed to call it a night. After so long out in the wilderness, it felt great to once more be sharing anecdotes and stupid jokes with someone who really knew him, and who was prepared to make the effort to dig under the surface and see him for who he really was. Familiarity may have bred contempt in the past for both of them, but at this time in their lives it brought a sense of relief. Constantly having to maintain a façade was growing increasingly exhausting.

Sighing once more, he bit into his now soggy sandwich and looked at the depressingly contrived hand-made poster that advertised a "Cultural Extravaganza", as he sat alone in the staff room. Generally his colleagues left him to it. He had a reputation for not exactly being the most approachable person, and so on the whole they gave him a wide-berth, restricting his need to make small talk to the bare minimum, which he was genuinely grateful for.

Just as he was about to wash down the bite with a swig of soda, the door opened and in walked his balding, bespectacled supervisor wearing his usual disapproving look. Quickly checking the clock, House frowned.

"I've got another fifteen minutes of my break left."

"I don't usually approve personal visits," the little man said officiously. "But your Mom said it was a family emergency."

"My Mom?!"

"Hello House," a woman in her mid-seventies said curtly as she rounded into the room, her cane aiding her as she walked more labouredly than she used to. Immediately House's jaw dropped. Not only did the voice not belong to his Mother, but the physically frail lady oozed somehow still oozed the same intimidating aura she had when he'd first met her. It was Arlene, and judging by the expression on her face, she definitely wasn't there to exchange pleasantries.

Turning to his boss she nodded a thank you, and not so subtly gestured for him to give them some space, which he duly did, closing the door behind him and exchanging a confused glance with his employee as he left them alone in the room. Silently House watched her hobble over to the chair opposite him and sit down, sorely tempted to make a run for it, but deciding against it when he realised how ridiculous he'd look being chased by someone who'd professed to be his Mother.

"I know why you're here."

"I expect you think you do," Arlene answered cryptically, stifling his train of thought momentarily. Realising he still had the sandwich in his hand he clumsily set it down on the chair next to him and wiped his hands on his jeans.

"I'm not walking away… You can make threats, or whatever you want to do, but I'm not walking out of Cuddy's life again. Or my son's."

Eyeing him like a shark circling its prey, Arlene intentionally didn't answer straight away, instead opting to watch him squirm in his seat.

"Do you remember what I told you I'd do if you ever hurt my daughter all those years ago?" He nodded hesitantly. He couldn't remember her exact words, but inflicting large amounts of pain was the general gist of it. "And not only did you nearly kill one of my children, both of them nearly fell victim to your lunacy… Do you have any idea how much I wanted to hurt you after I found out what you did?"

Uneasily House let his eyes fall to the floor. Parenting was a relatively new concept to him, but it didn't exactly take much of a leap of imagination to conjure up the pure revulsion she must have felt towards him after the crash.

"What I did was wrong…"

"Wrong?" she interrupted. "Jaywalking is wrong. Attempted murder is something else!"

Hearing the 'm' word, he visibly winced. _Still_ the accusation felt like a punch to the gut.

"I wasn't trying to murder anyone."

"And yet you drove your vehicle into my daughter's home when you knew people were inside. If you weren't trying to murder them then what?... Surprise her with an extreme makeover?" Nerves made House snort and immediately regretted it. Continuing to glower at him, Arlene clearly wasn't pleased. "It's _interesting_ that you find this so amusing."

"I don't," he qualified, taking a deep breath. "Look, just slap me or do whatever it is you need to do to get it out of your system… Either way I'm not walking away."

"You're the one who keeps on mentioning walking away, not me."

He shrugged.

"I figured Julia came running to you after last night, and you hatched a plan together to get rid of me… It's not going to work. As long as Cuddy wants me around, I'm not going anywhere."

Defiantly he stared back at her and squared his jaw, his brow knitting together when she laughed at him.

"I've always found it puzzling that when people look at you they see anything other than the sad, lonely, little boy you quite obviously used to be." Annoyed House opened his mouth to object, but she held her hand up signalling for him to remain quiet, and to his own surprise he obeyed. "Lisa sees it too, and that's part of the reason why she's always been drawn to you, but then she's always wanted to fix people, make them better, even when it's a lost cause… It's a curse as well as a blessing… The times she used to bring home stray dogs when she was a child…"

"I don't see how any of this is relevant," he cut in bluntly, thoroughly pissed off with being compared to a homeless animal. Awkwardly he began to get to his feet. "I've got to go back to work."

"Sit down!" There was no leeway in her request. It was an order which he had little option but to adhere to, so reluctantly he sat back down.

"What is the point of this? I've already told you I'm not going anywhere."

"Who says I want you to?" Arlene quizzed, leaving House more than a little confused.

"What?"

Not in a hurry to put her point across, Cuddy's Mom sat back in her chair and made herself comfortable, slowly looking him up and down.

"As much as I'd rather my daughter had fallen for almost anybody else but you, I can't make her decisions for her… Lisa was so unhappy after she broke up with you. That was still the case after she got married. She lost that spark she used to have around you… Sure, she did her best to cover it up, but a Mother knows… Why do you think I tried to get you two back together in the first place?"

"Because you can't resist meddling in her life?" he cracked back dryly.

"Don't be cute, House. It doesn't suit you."

Fed up with her snippiness, he rolled his eyes.

"Can we cut the insults and get on with this?... Whatever _this _is."

"I know Lisa's not well…" She paused and saw him looking back at her wide-eyed. "Judging by your expression, I'm guessing you know too."

"So why haven't you told her that you know?"

Thoughtfully Arlene tapped her finger on the cane in her hand.

"My daughter's a proud women. She sees any sort of imperfection in herself as a weakness… I admit, the way I brought her up, the way I pushed her, didn't help that… I didn't want her to feel any more humiliated than she already does. I know what that type of illness can do to someone's self-esteem."

"Humiliated?" House spat back. "She needed your support!"

Coolly she scowled back at him.

"I could say the same thing about you… Or are we forgetting that you were lounging around in prison, whilst she was carrying your son?"

"I didn't know she was pregnant!... Of course I would have been there for her if things had been different. Do you think I enjoy knowing another man effectively brought up my son for the first five years of his life? Years I'm never going to get back." Taking a breath to calm himself down, House balled up his fist and rubbed it over his forehead in frustration. He didn't enjoy wearing his heart on his sleeve in the best of circumstances, and this definitely wasn't ideal, but swallowing his pride was a necessity in this instance, especially as it felt like he was on trial. "I love her, and for whatever crazy reason she feels the same way about me too… I just want to do my best to be there for her and the kids. To _try_ and make up for the bullshit I've laid at her door over the years."

"And what makes you think you're capable of that?" Arlene asked him impertinently.

For a long time he didn't respond. It _was_ a good question. Throughout most of his adult life he'd gone through cycles of screwing up, trying to atone for his mistakes and then falling into exactly the same patterns again. There was little wonder she was sceptical.

"Because I lost everything I was scared of losing, and somehow I'm still standing. I even managed to kick the Vicodin on my own… I guess realised it was about time I grew the hell up. It's still a work-in-progress, but I'm getting there."

Silently she pondered his words and then nodded her head, giving the faintest idea that she was somewhat satisfied with his answer.

"Lisa's father used to suffer with the same attacks she has," Arlene eventually offered quietly. "That's how I knew… I recognised the same change in her that I saw in him."

"She never mentioned that."

"She never knew. We hid it from her and Julia, probably for the same reasons she's keeping it from Rachel, Gabriel and everybody else… You do know that this isn't going to be a walk in the park?"

"I used to be a doctor. I'm know what effects panic disorder can have on a patient."

"But she's not your patient," the older woman was quick to point out. "God knows, I loved her father in my own way, but he wasn't the love of my life. It was hard enough coping with his illness and hiding it from everybody else even though there was a degree of detatchment… The last time she was ill the only way you could be there for her was if you took the Vicodin, and when you were on Vicodin you ended up nearly killing her. Surely, you can understand my concern?"

Anxiously, House looked down at the tiled floor. So many things could have been different if he'd just found a way to be physically present when she had the cancer scare, without removing himself emotionally.

"That's not going to happen again."

"You're sure of that?"

"Yes!" he responded forcefully, lifting his head to look her in the eye once more. "I won't let her deal with this on her own. It's her turn to lean on me."

"Good!" There was chirpiness to Arlene's tone that baffled him. He'd certainly expected more of a Julia-style grilling when they eventually came face-to-face.

"Does that mean I can go back to work?" he asked tentatively.

"Not just yet. There's one more thing I need to ask you to do."

Immediately House's eyebrows crawled half way up his forehead.

"For an old Jewish lady I suppose you're not bad, but one Cuddy woman is more than enough for me."

Unmoved by his attempt at humour, Arlene tutted and shook her head at him reproachfully.

"If you think your 'joke' shocks me, you're sadly mistaken. And for your information my husband more than takes care of me in that department."

Disturbed by the mental image, he screwed his face up in disgust. It was nearly as bad as walking in on his own Mother when she was having an intimate moment with Thomas Bell, an incident he was still having trouble shaking from his memory bank all these years later.

"And for _your _information that was more than I needed to know… What do you want?"

For a split second he saw her eyes narrow, and a Machiavellian smirk fleet across her lips.

"I want you to find a way to get Lisa to the new Italian restaurant on Main Street tomorrow, so we can sort out this ridiculous rift between her and her Julia."

"How am I supposed to do that?" he shot back with a frown. Cuddy was furious that her sister had given her an ultimatum. There was little chance that she'd go willingly.

"That's your problem."

"What if I can't do that?"

"Then I'll find a way to make your life difficult."

Watching her as she raised one eyebrow in a challenge, there was no doubt she meant to follow through with her threat. If he was truly honest with himself, the woman scared him a little. She had ever since he'd first met her.

"That's blackmail," he asserted, looking on as her expression didn't flicker an inch with the accusation.

"I prefer to call it pro-active parenting… One day you'll understand."

"They're grown women. They should be able to sort this out on their own."

"They should," she agreed. "But unfortunately being adults doesn't prevent them from behaving like immature idiots. Sometimes my girls need a gentle nudge in the right direction."

"With a sledgehammer."

"If that's what it takes," she responded nonchalantly, spurred on by her own self-belief that she was doing the right thing. "Well? Are you in, or not?"

Feeling like he was stuck between a rock and hard place, House fretfully ran his hand through his hair. He'd have to lie to get Cuddy there, and with everything that happened in the past she wouldn't like it one bit. On the other hand, letting this argument between her and her sister fester wasn't an ideal option either. She'd said it wouldn't be the case, but could he realistically expect this division with her sister to not have repercussions on their relationship in the future? Eventually reaching a decision, he let the air filter out of his lungs slowly.

"I'm in."

* * *

"This isn't a 'date' date is it?" Cuddy inquired, as House pulled his car up in a space a few hundred yards from the restaurant. She'd been a little confused since he'd asked her to go out for a meal the night before. He'd insisted it was no big deal, but there'd been a caginess to his whole demeanour ever since. Of course she was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but she'd known him for a long time. Spontaneous requests to eat out when they were together before were either a precursor to sex, or a means to soften the blow before he told her he'd done something wrong.

"Because having a date with the man you've slept with several hundred times, and who happens to be your baby Daddy is such a bad thing."

"I didn't mean that," she began to qualify when one corner of his mouth ticked upwards into a smirk. "You ass!"

"What?" Pretending to be more irritated than she actually was, Cuddy ignored the question, got out of the car and waited on the sidewalk for him join her. "Is somebody in a mood by any chance?" he teased, stepping onto the curb and standing next to her.

"Not at all… I was just thinking about how much of a gross exaggeration 'several hundred times' is."

"Not really," House shrugged, placing his hand against the small of her back in order to usher her towards the restaurant, whilst he inconspicuously let his gaze hover over the portion of her back that her dress didn't cover. For all her protestations that this wasn't a proper date, nevertheless she'd made an effort and boy could she still wear the hell out of a little black dress. In spite of such a glorious distraction, it didn't make this predicament any easier. Licking his lips he tried to remain calm as they made their way to the place they were going to be dining. "I'd actually say several hundred is pretty accurate. We had a lot of sex."

"So you were counting?"

"I have a ball park figure."

"Should I be flattered? Or have you kept score with everybody else you've ever slept with too?" Raising an eyebrow she glanced at him quizzically as she set foot through the doorway into the warm, cheery atmosphere of the Italian restaurant. Nervously he looked around and caught sight of Arlene seated at a table in one corner of the room having the same heated debate with Julia that he was about to have with Cuddy in 3… 2… 1. "Did you know they'd be here?!"

He gulped.

"Your Mom's a persuasive woman… I almost literally had a gun to my head."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" she probed angrily, purposefully lowering her voice so she wouldn't disturb the diners near them.

"If I'd told you, you wouldn't have come."

"You're damn right I wouldn't have come!... In fact this is me leaving right now."

Turning on her heel she went to exit the building when House grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Your Mom's right. You two need to sort this thing out."

Perplexed by his insistence that this was something she needed to do, Cuddy shook her head.

"I don't understand why you're so bothered about this. Julia hates your guts."

"Quite frankly, I couldn't care less if I never saw her again," he countered honestly. "But this affects you and the kids… You'll regret it if you don't at least try to hold out an olive branch before this blows up into a mafia-sized family fallout."

Silently she regarded him as if she was weighing up her options, and eventually gave her answer.

"I'm doing this for the kids."

"And that's good enough for me," he sighed, bracing himself for fireworks as he followed her over to the table.


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks guys for sticking with the story and continuing to review, favourite and alert. You're awesome!_

_A few you have raised some really interesting questions. Firstly, yeah that scene where we see House on the beach at the end of S7, seemingly without a care in the World, is really disturbing. Given the fact we've seen him empathise with people and feel remorse for his actions in the past, I don't believe for a second he's a sociopath. The only plausible explanation I can come up with, and which I pointed to in Chapter 6, was that the Vicodin had suppressed his conscience enough for him to feel some kind of perverse euphoria that he'd screwed his life up so royally. Then reality set in and so did the guilt…_

_The suicide thing is curious too. When I was writing FWYS I was convinced that if Wilson didn't somehow bring House and Cuddy together through his illness, then he'd take his own life after his best friend's death. Since I started planning this story I kind of changed my mind, first and foremost, because I think if House was really going to commit suicide he would have done it years ago. I can absolutely imagine him considering it after Wilson's death, but then his stubborn streak kicking in and deciding to live being his big "Fuck you!" to the Universe. As far as he's concerned, after everything he's done to his body over the years, he probably doesn't have decades to live, so why not get on with it and take pleasure in simple things like his music, even if his existence is a shadow of what it used to be? House has a dark sense of humour and a well-honed sense of justice, so I can also imagine him being oddly amused by and duty bound to a lifestyle devoid of all the things he fought so hard to cling onto previously, seeing it as a sort of penance for everything he miraculously got away with in the past._

_I know you guys want to know a million other things too, and I'll try my best to put forward some answers over the course of the story. :) _

_I do love Arlene. If she were real she'd be an oracle in a cave somewhere, doling out snippy advice for a hefty fee._

_They still don't belong to me, sadly._

* * *

Quietly the two sisters pushed their food around their plates, neither of them making an effort to communicate or even attempt eye contact, as House and Arlene ate and silently evaluated the situation with the vigilance of two individuals trapped in the enclosure of a sleeping lion.

"The food's expensive here," Arlene eventually chirped up as she set her knife and fork down on her plate and took a slug of her glass of wine. "You should try actually eating it."

Unimpressed, Cuddy eyed her sharply.

"Funnily enough, I lost my appetite when I saw you two had crashed our date."

"It's not really a date," House offered, reiterating their previous conversation and soliciting an annoyed scowl from her. Anxiously his attention turned to her barely touched bowl of pasta. "If you don't want it, I'll have it."

Before she had chance to reply, Julia scoffed and threw her hands in the air.

"If ever there was a metaphor for this relationship, there it is!"

"What the hell is your problem?" Cuddy spat back, raising her voice and stirring interest from the group on the next table.

"Oh I don't know!" Animatedly the younger sibling pretended to be at a loss, her index finger tapping thoughtfully at the corner of her mouth. "Maybe that you decided to give a domestic abuser and attempted murderer another chance!"

"This isn't even about that… This is about you never being happy unless you're judging my life in some way…"

"Enough!" Arlene exclaimed, making her daughters snap their heads in her direction.

"But…"

"I said enough!" Leisurely she glowered at both of them, and saw them individually look away in embarrassment. "You're behaving worse than you did when you were children. What are you going to do next? Pull each other's hair."

Finding himself entertained by the mental picture she'd conjured up, House snorted.

"You two should listen to Arlene Corleone."

Slowly Arlene turned herself and gave him a withering look.

"I think it's best if you only speak when you're spoken to, House." Heeding the iciness of the older woman's tone, he shrugged his shoulders and nodded, then purposefully skewered a tomato on Cuddy's plate and made a point of smirking at Julia as she watched him bite into it. Turning her attention back to her girls, Arlene took a long, deep breath and began again. "We're here tonight to sort out this ridiculous argument between you, not make it worse."

"As far as I'm concerned there's nothing to sort out," Julia responded dismissively. "We can talk again when she gets rid of this prick."

Irritated by the name-calling House dropped his fork, the loud clatter as metal hit porcelain resonating around their corner of the room.

"The same 'prick' who happened to save your son's life?"

"He has a point," Arlene reluctantly agreed. "Even if he can't manage to keep his mouth shut for more than two seconds."

Pissed off that even her Mother seemed to be against her, the younger sister pursed her lips and folded the napkin on her lap, setting it down on the table.

"So what am I supposed to do? Get down on my knees and thank him?"… After everything he's done?"

"I don't want your thanks," House clarified, irritated by her refusal to address him directly. "I helped out on the case as a favour to your sister… What I do want is for you to stop punishing Cuddy and the kids because of me."

"I'm doing this for their own good." Next to her Cuddy lodged her tongue in her cheek and shook her head contemptuously. The inference that she wasn't in control of her own faculties enough to make her own decisions peeved the hell out of her. Ignoring her, Julia went on. "You lashed out at your ex-girlfriend because what? She was on a date with someone else?... Do you know how much of a psychopath that makes you seem?"

Unsurprisingly the shame of his actions once more hit House. It was bad enough having this conversation in the privacy of Cuddy's home, but something else altogether in such a public setting. It didn't help that he was ninety-nine percent certain the middle-aged woman seated on another table to their left was eavesdropping on the whole thing, nodding sporadically at her husband as he continued to drone on, all the while devoting her attention to the much more interesting shenanigans three feet away from her.

"I didn't take the break up well," he eventually answered in little more than a whisper. "Relapsing didn't exactly help my judgement either."

Dissatisfied Julia leant her elbows on the table, and craned her body further forward confrontationally.

"What happens if it doesn't work out again?... Should I be expecting to have to bury Lisa this time?"

Taken aback by the accusation that he was capable of something so extreme, his eyes widened in horror.

"I'd never hurt her again."

"Really?... As far as I can see, you haven't even shown the slightest bit of remorse… It seems like one big joke to you that not only did you destroy my sister's home, the place where she's supposed to feel safe and keep her family safe, you were also reckless enough to endanger the lives of the four people inside at the time." She paused momentarily and gulped back the lump in her throat. "You haven't even attempted to apologise to me."

"You didn't exactly give me much chance the other day, did you?" he countered tetchily. Under the table, he felt a hand on his knee and turned see Cuddy wordlessly imploring him to swallow his pride. Letting his eyes linger on hers for a few seconds, he soon turned back to her sister and sighed. "It's not a joke for me… I relive that moment of idiocy in my head all the time… Sometimes I manage to find things to distract myself with, but it's always there… I doubt it's ever going to go away."

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" Julia quizzed incredulously.

In response, he shook his head.

"No. I don't want you to feel sorry for me… I've had enough pity to last me a lifetime." Contemplating his next sentence as three pairs of eyes continued to regard him, he drummed his fingers on the table in front of him. "I've done some crappy things to the people I care about over the years, but I always found a way to justify it… What I did that day, there is no justification for it, and I've got to live with that for the rest of my life." Fleetingly he glanced at Cuddy, and saw her smile encouragingly. "I really am sorry for what I did, and for all the hurt I caused to everybody involved."

On hearing the words, the woman opposite him frowned.

"And I'm just supposed to forget it?"

"You don't have to forgive or forget," Arlene immediately cut in. "I'm not sure I can. You just have to respect your sister's decision."

"Lisa can do better… She _did _do better."

"And that's exactly what some people said when Rodrigo finally left his wife, and we got married… Everybody compared him to your Father and didn't hesitate to tell me what a mistake I was making." That she'd married a divorced Catholic, who was also happened to be so much younger than her, had stunned some of her so-called friends. She knew she'd been 'discussed' behind her back amongst the circle of Jewish widows she used to mix with, but age and life in general had taught her not to care much about idle gossip. "You can't help who you fall in love with… Lisa tried to make things work with Jonathan, but anybody with a fully functioning pair of eyes could see she didn't love him in the same way she loves this idiot."

Whilst House tutted at the slur, Julia turned to Cuddy and exhaled loudly.

"You're really in love with him? This isn't some weird Stockholm Syndrome thing?... I've watched documentaries about that and we can get you help."

Simultaneously her older sister and House rolled their eyes.

"I'm really in love with him."

"And you think he's the best thing for Gabe and Rachel?"

Twisting her head to look back at him, Cuddy gently nodded, the corner of her mouth ticking up into a lop-sided smile as she regarded him.

"He can give them things I can't… You know how Gabe is. Sooner or later, I won't be able to keep up with his incessant need to know everything… He's great with Rachel too. They just click. They always did."

Watching the pair of them look at each other with such unguarded affection, Julia reluctantly felt her resolve break. Judging by the adoration on House's features as they appeared to zone everybody else out, it seemed obvious that the love wasn't one-sided.

"I swear to God, if you hurt her again…"

"He won't," her Mother answered on his behalf. "Not only does he know we'll both be watching him like a hawk, he also remembers how truly miserable and pathetic he was without Lisa in his life." Viewing him out of the corner of her eye, she saw him squirm a little in his seat. "House knows this is his last chance to be really happy, and I doubt he's going to screw it up so easily this time."

Sensing his uneasiness, Cuddy leapt to his defence.

"Is this really necessary, Mom?... He's already apologised. You don't have to humiliate him as well."

"Is any of what I just said not true?" Arlene asked House bluntly, her eyebrow rising as she waited for an answer.

For a second he hesitated and then shook his head emphatically.

"No."

Assessing the mood at the table, Cuddy looked around at the three faces before her. After the previous tension, everybody looked a little weary but relieved, their shoulders sagging as each of them focused on different areas of the restaurant, deep in thought.

"Does this mean things can go back to normal?" she inquired tentatively.

"I'll tolerate him for your sake," her younger sister eventually replied, her finger dancing over the rim of her wine glass. "Just don't expect us to be best friends anytime soon."

"We can live with that," House butted in without giving Cuddy the chance to re-open the wound. All he wanted to do was conclude the meal as uneventfully as possible, and get out of there before something else jeopardised the newly negotiated truce.

"Great!" Arlene added, building on his momentum. "Now that that's sorted I can order dessert."

* * *

"I don't like being lied to," Cuddy said quietly, her eyes staying poised in front of her as House pulled into her drive and turned off the engine.

"Technically I didn't lie… It was more of a surprise intervention. You and Wilson used to be great at those."

"I know you had good intentions…"

"And it paid off," he interrupted.

"And it paid off," she repeated. "But things can't go back to how they used to be. We can't fall into those same patterns, or this won't work."

"In future I promise to tell you when Mama Cuddy ambushes me at work, and threatens physical violence." Exasperated House turned and looked out of his window, biting his lip and eyeing the light emanating from the living room. "You should go and pay the babysitter."

Unhooking her seatbelt, Cuddy leaned towards him and reached out, gently gripping his chin and forcing him to look at her again.

"I am grateful for what you did tonight. I know it wasn't easy." Softly she stroked his cheek, and visibly saw him mellow. "I just worry. This is so important to me. I don't want us to screw it up again."

"What is _this_?" he quizzed, drawing a puzzled frown from her. Realising she wanted clarification, he attempted to offer it to her. "I need to know if we're just friends, who happen to have a child together, go on non-dates and tell everybody they love each other, or if this is something more."

Hearing his explanation, her forehead creased even more.

"We can't rush things like last time… A lot has happened in a little over a week."

Agreeing with her, he nodded. A hell of a lot had happened in a short space of time, but it wasn't as if they were going into this as strangers. Their prologue was a healthy-sized tome in itself. Aside from that, it already felt like they were together in all but name. She may have told him that she wasn't ready for a relationship yet, nevertheless, with all the time they were spending together, it already felt like they were.

"Slow and steady is fine, but I need to know what to call you when I tell other guys to stop staring at your ass on these non-dates."

Amused, Cuddy chuckled loudly.

"You want a pronoun?"

"Pronouns matter," House confirmed with a smirk.

"I'm not going to be your girlfriend until you take me out on a proper date… I have standards."

"I think we both know that's not tr…" he started, cutting himself off when she cleared her throat as a warning, and deciding to change tack. "When can I take you out?"

Finding herself more than a little flattered by his eagerness, rather than thinking of a reason to shoot him down, she went along with it. Resisting altogether at this point seemed faintly ridiculous. They'd received tentative approval from Julia and her Mom, and neither of them were interested in seeing anybody else, so perhaps dipping their toe in the water wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"How about Saturday?"

"Saturday is good for me." Triumphantly House licked his lips, and attempted to tone down the boyish excitement that was evident in his expression. He failed miserably.

"I guess I should go in then."

"Yeah," he agreed, but still she didn't move. Instead her palm fell to his chest and she looked at him expectantly, her blue eyes burning into his in an unspoken plea for something she knew they both wanted. Slowly House craned his head down and caught her lips with his own, a tender embrace soon turning into something more heated when their hands began to awkwardly wander over each other's bodies in the confined space, whilst their joined frantically.

Eventually he pulled away breathlessly, and reluctantly moved his fingers away from where they'd been gripping her hip possessively, letting his head flop back against the rest.

"Sometimes you make slow and steady really difficult."

Still getting her own breath back, Cuddy laughed and checked her lipstick in the rear view mirror. The last thing she wanted was to step back into the house looking like a teenager who'd been making out with a boy in his car, when she paid the neighbour's daughter for sitting with the kids.

"I really am going now," she eventually announced, opening the car door and stepping outside in an attempt to put some space between them before she threw caution to the wind and invited him in with her. Just as she was about to close it again House called after her, causing her to turn and crouch down to face him again.

"I'd like to see you again before the weekend… You and the kids."

"Then come for dinner after work tomorrow," she said simply, like it was the most obvious course of action. "It's about time you taught Gabe how to play that damn guitar. I'm sick of hearing him in his room randomly plucking the strings."

"If you insist?"

"For the sake of my sanity, yeah I do," she half joked. In all honesty her son was driving her mad as he endeavoured to try and teach himself, and bypass the offer House had made him out of sheer stubbornness. Stepping in had become a necessity, or she'd be forced to sneak into his bedroom and 'misplace' the instrument.

"Cool! I'll see you tomorrow then."

"See you tomorrow," she echoed warmly, shutting the car door and starting to walk up the drive, the sashaying of her hips deliberately exaggerated for House's benefit.

Watching her step over the threshold into the house, he wondered how many people could know each other for nearly thirty years, (granted on and off), and still be this attracted to one another. Bemusedly puffing out his cheeks and returning her wave as she went inside, he couldn't decide if they were special, abnormal or an unfathomable combination of the two.

* * *

"I'm tired!" Gabe grouched, pouting miserably as he clung onto his guitar.

Perched on the edge of the coffee table in Cuddy's living room with his own guitar in his lap, House sighed deeply to steel himself. After another meal where his son had managed to isolate himself from the conversation at the dinner table, he'd expected some resistance when Cuddy had not so subtly dragged Rachel off to her room to watch a DVD and left them to engage in some Father and son bonding time.

"We've only been trying for ten minutes. I wanted to teach you some basic chords tonight."

"But I'm not in the mood!" the five year old persisted.

"You're not in the mood because I'm the one teaching you? Or you're not in the mood generally?" Candidly the boy stared back at him, but didn't answer. He didn't need to. They both knew the former was the case. "Look, I know this whole thing is strange for you. I also know that I'm not your favourite person and that I might never be, but can we not at least try to make an effort for your Mom and Rachel's sake?"

Momentarily Gabe seemed to hesitate, his face betraying the internal dilemma as he fidgeted in his spot on the sofa, and then his expression hardened again.

"It's not my fault if I'm tired."

Surprised by how hurt he felt by the rejection, House fought not to show it and shrugged, putting his guitar down on the floor.

"Fine."

Confused that his Father had given up so easily, Gabe's brow furrowed and he followed suit, sliding his own instrument onto the seat next to him, and then looking blankly at the man in front of him as if he was waiting for a cue to do something. When none came, he crossed his legs and began to toy with his bottom lip, pulling it out until it stretched enough so he could look down at it, his eyes crossing in the process.

"What happened to your knee?" House enquired, breaking the silence and gesturing towards the purple and red bruise that was partially covered by the boy's shorts.

"Nothing," he shot back quickly. A little too quickly.

"Nobody bruises for no reason… Can I see?" Reluctantly Gabe agreed and stretched his leg out, cautiously lifting his shorts a little to give a better view. "Looks pretty nasty. How did you do it?"

"I fell… Playing soccer." Again he seemed cagey in his answer, but House couldn't tell if the reason for his reticence was down to the question itself, or who was asking it.

"If it hurts I can see if your Mom's got something in the medicine cupboard?" the older man inquired, finding himself oddly wrapped up in the possibility of his son being in pain.

"It's ok."

"Sure?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, skittishly looking anywhere but at his Dad. "Can I go to my room now?"

Troubled by his renewed eagnerness to get away, House couldn't do anything but nod. He wasn't about to force the child to stay with him if he didn't want to.

"I guess."

Responding to the confirmation, Gabe slid off the sofa and picked up his guitar, starting to walk away when something appeared to make him stop and turn back.

"I really am tired," he said softly, his eyes slipping to the floor as if he was divulging something he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Then I'll teach you another day when you're not half asleep."

"Ok," he agreed with a tiny bob of his head, a shyness coming to the fore that House hadn't seen until now under the moodiness and bad temper.

"Ok!"

Swivelling back around Gabe meandered out of the room, and tucked the small guitar under his arm, leaving House alone with a smug smile on his face.

Baby steps.


	11. Chapter 11

_As ever, big thanks to everybody who's read, reviewed, favourited and alerted. It's much appreciated._

_Interesting debate going on in the reviews. Cuddy was written OoC in S6 for the simple reason they wanted to prolong the amount of time it took for her and House to get together, and therefore lengthen the mileage the show had. They stopped putting character before plot, and the show as a whole suffered because of it. It really is as simple as that. House was unrecognisable for much of S7 and thereafter too. Oh and regardless of them initially pushing Hameron and then bringing Stacy into the mix, there were indications that there was more going on between House and Cuddy than just a professional relationship/friendship from the get go. Whether they were quite aware of exactly what it was themselves (or the indeed the writers) is debateable. To me, it was always the most complicated relationship on the show, and therefore the most interesting. _

_And things were going so well… :/ Angst alert!_

_These guys still don't belong to me._

* * *

Taking a breath and shaking her head in amused disbelief, Cuddy glanced around the bar at the other patrons from the vantage point of the booth they were sitting in, and then back at House who was still anticipating an answer. Thankfully with music drifting from the jukebox and the gentle hum of other people ensconced in their own conversations, it was apparent nobody else was listening.

"It's alright," he insisted jokily. "The CIA aren't recording this conversation to use against you when they interrogate you over being a Russian spy."

Cockily he took a swig of his beer and continued to look at her expectantly, his eyes flirtily appreciating her in the red dress she was wearing.

"You know, if you asked anybody else that on a first date you'd probably get a slap."

"Well firstly, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of first dates I've been on, so you can understand why I might not be familiar with the protocol."

"And secondly?" she probed, her forehead creasing quizzically.

"Secondly is pretty obvious. I'm not asking anybody else, am I?... Besides this is only a first date if you squint really hard and develop selective amnesia."

Smiling in response, Cuddy planted her elbow on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, all the while sizing up her 'date'. He'd clearly made an effort, going to unheard of lengths of actually ironing his shirt and even attempting to tame his hair by putting a comb through it. With a relaxed smile on his face and mischievous glint in his eye, he looked infuriatingly good.

"I just don't understand why you'd want to know," she eventually countered with a shrug.

"I was curious… If you don't want to tell me then fine." Feigning upset, he jutted out his bottom lip like a petulant child, making her look skywards in despair.

"I'm gonna regret this, aren't I?"

"Since when have I ever used details about your sexual history against you?" Noting the death stare he was getting, House decided to reframe his argument. "Who am I going to tell?... You're just about the only person I share the time of day with now."

Finding herself relenting, Cuddy sighed. What harm could it really do? The man in question had died a couple of years ago anyway, so he was hardly going to contact him and compare notes.

"You already know I slept with my Dad's best friend."

"He was your first?" House questioned with a frown. He didn't quite know what he'd expected, but that certainly wasn't it.

"I worked in his store the Summer before I went to college… We talked a lot when the place was quiet, and gradually one thing led to another… So come on, get the jokes over and done with!"

Uncharacteristically he initially stayed silent, the lines in his forehead furrowing deeper as he mulled over the information he'd been given, and took another slug of his beer.

"What an asshole!"

"As touching as it is that you care about my honour all these years later, it wasn't as if he took advantage of me."

"The fact you were probably at least half his age says different," he responded curtly, more or less wishing he hadn't asked the question in the first place. He didn't quite know why it bothered him so much, after all the Cuddy who'd entered into his life a couple of years later was hardly a shrinking violet, but nevertheless it did.

"Being with someone who actually knew what they were doing was way better than fumbling around in the back of a car with one of the acne-infested boys I knew from high school… Maybe I should regret it, but I don't. He was single, handsome and forbidden. That's irresistible when you've just turned eighteen."

"And there started your obsession with hot, older men…"

Coyly Cuddy raised an eyebrow at him. It was obvious he a little jealous and desperate to direct the conversation back to him. In a way it was kind of cute: only House could see someone so far in her distant past as any sort of a threat.

"Why would I want a boy, when I can have a man?"

"So what happened with Lucas?"

"Lucas was the exception that proved the rule," she said decisively. Getting together with the private detective really hadn't been one of her finest hours. At the time she'd seen him as an opportunity for an uncomplicated relationship with an uncomplicated man, who'd happily take on the role as a father figure to her daughter; the polar opposite to House. On paper he seemed like a sensible choice. In reality his childish antics and general immaturity had only confirmed to her that her heart belonged elsewhere.

"You nearly married him."

"Being engaged to someone for a little over twenty-four hours is not nearly marrying them," she contradicted with force. "Lucas was a mistake. A big one." As he let her words sink in, she watched House nod in satisfaction, making her determined to change the topic back to one that wouldn't permanently bring down the jovial mood of the evening. So far she'd had a fun night, and she wanted that to continue. In any case, if he thought he could get with asking questions about the circumstances surrounding her losing her virginity without her reciprocating, he had another thing coming. "So come on, what about you?"

Waiting for an answer that wasn't immediately forthcoming, she saw he was looking past her and turned to follow his line of vision, her gaze falling on an auburn-haired woman, who'd just entered the bar accompanied by a similarly aged guy in his late thirties, early forties. For a split second she saw her eyes meet House's, and then just as quickly they both glanced away. Confused by the brief interaction, Cuddy couldn't help but drive for an explanation.

"Who is that?"

"No idea," he responded abruptly, sliding closer to her in the booth and swiftly moving on to answer her previous question. "Before I tried to get into college, I went travelling for a few years: parts of South America, most of Europe, China. I wanted to learn more languages and improve the ones I did know, so that was the best way to do it… I worked for a couple of months in a vineyard in the South of France, and there was this local girl working there too… Improving my oral skills wasn't the only thing she helped me work on, if you get my drift."

Bemused, Cuddy leaned in a little further.

"How old were you?"

"Nineteen. And a half," he reluctantly responded after a long pause, immediately soliciting a snort from the woman sat next to him. Ill at ease, he folded his arms across his chest defensively. "Thanks!"

"Oh come on!" Desperately and unsuccessfully she tried to stifle a giggle. "I'm not laughing at you."

"You could have fooled me!... I'm glad this tender moment from my young adulthood entertains you so much."

"It's actually kind of adorable that you waited that long."

Sticking his tongue in his cheek, he fought hard not to laugh along with her, but failed miserably. Her laugh was infectious, lighting up her entire face as she threw her head back and chuckled loudly. After all the angst of the last couple of weeks it was great to see her let go without inhibition, even if he was the butt of the joke.

"Because adorable is what I always wanted to be," he shot back sarcastically.

"You more than made up for it later. You had a reputation at Michigan."

"Rumours aren't always true." He certainly knew that was the case. He'd been the root of some of them himself.

"You slept around," Cuddy said with certainty.

House shrugged casually.

"So did you. It was college. Everybody did." Somewhat tensely, he fidgeted in his seat, moving his beer bottle in a circular motion on the table. "You were the first girl I really liked."

Touched by the admission, one corner of her mouth curled into a lop-sided smile.

"I moped around for weeks after you left… I really thought I'd done something wrong." It hadn't been until years later, at the conference she'd attended with both Wilson and House, that she'd found out his sudden absence was down to him being kicked out of college.

"Uh-uh!" he refuted with conviction, shaking his head vigorously as a hint of a self-satisfied grin ghosted across his lips. Even now his mind often wandered back to the night she'd led him back to her dorm room with a significant amount of fondness. In the early hours of that Saturday morning, the fascination he'd had with the smart, pretty, forthright twenty year old, who'd consistently refused to be put off by his rude remarks and intellectual posturing in the term that they'd known each other, had burgeoned into a full-blown crush. Hours later, when he'd kissed her goodbye and told her he'd call, he'd had every intention of doing so. Fate, as it had so often throughout his life, had then decided to kick him in the nuts. "That night was something else."

"The second time we hooked up wasn't bad either." Her own thoughts going back to the morning after the crane crash, she remembered thinking at the time how she'd forgotten how tender he could be.

"You know what they say," he added speculatively, momentarily biting his lip. "Third first time's a charm."

Continuing to observe him, Cuddy pouted and twirled the straw around her orange juice, making him wonder if he'd over-stepped the mark.

"Then maybe we should take advantage of the fact my Mum has the kids."

"You mean come back with you tonight to stay over?" he gulped, wanting to be clear that that was really what she meant.

"Yeah."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," she repeated, leaning in to kiss him delicately and briefly on the cheek, as her fingertips grazed reassuringly over the other side of his face, leaving him in no doubt that the offer was indeed serious.

"You're not even drinking. You won't be able to blame this on alcohol in the morning." Resting his forehead against hers, oblivious to everyone else around them, House looked down and saw her nose wrinkle.

"You should probably just go with the flow right now." Taking Cuddy's advice, House tilted his head to the side and caught her red lips between his, his fingers finding the warm, silky skin left exposed at the back of her dress, as her hand slowly snaked up the inside of his thigh, assuaging any remaining reservations he'd had that them reconnecting physically was a bad idea. Getting lost in the embrace, he groaned disappointedly when she drew herself away and licked his swollen lips. "Hold that thought."

"I didn't say anything," he replied, baffled by the request.

"You didn't have to." Smiling warmly, she slid out of the booth and stood up, grabbing her purse to take with her. "I'm going to the bathroom. When I get back I'll drive us back to my place."

Nodding his assent, House swigged back the rest of his beer and looked on as she excused her way past other people, and disappeared behind a door at the far end of the room.

* * *

Opening the cap on her lipstick, Cuddy regarded her own reflection in the bathroom mirror and smiled at what she saw. There was no small amount of trepidation about where they were about to take this, but it felt right. More than that, she felt happier than she had in a long time, and it was showing on her face. Gone were the dark circles under her eyes that seemed to have plagued her since before the end of her marriage and Jonathan's death, which had served as a physical symptom of the hollowness inside.

Pressing the deep red to her lips, randomly her thoughts fleeted back to the night she'd slept with Don, the lube guy, his words tattooed to her memory, even after all this time: "You should hear yourself when you're talking to him. Nothing else in the World's going on… You're focused, confident, compelling." For too long she'd denied the positive effect House had on her and then when she'd finally given in to her feelings, her fear of it not working out had turned her into someone not even she recognised; someone too caught up on the little things to really let go and appreciate how special their relationship was. He'd been far, far from the ideal boyfriend, but at the same time she couldn't hand on heart proclaim she was the perfect girlfriend either. At least now that they were being more open and honest with each other, they had a real chance of making this work.

"That guy you're with," said an unfamiliar voice, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Don't expect anything serious to come out of it."

Thrown by the assertion, Cuddy turned to glance at the woman who was washing her hands, and realised she'd seen her a few minutes earlier when House professed not to know who she was. Eyeing the taller woman up and down, she realised that obviously wasn't strictly true.

"Excuse me?"

"Greg and I had a casual thing going on a few months back. We'd meet for a drink after work and then… well you can guess what." As she paused for a second, she fumbled in her bag and found her own lipstick, quickly applying a delicate shade of pink that complemented her pale skin tone and auburn hair, before elaborating. "After a couple of months I wanted things to get more serious and he backed off."

With it finally clicking into place that she was the one he'd briefly mentioned in the diner the day she'd told House about Gabe, Cuddy couldn't help but feel irritated that this complete stranger was butting into their personal matters.

"Thanks for the heads up, but when you've known House as long as I have then maybe you can talk about what he does and doesn't want."

Instead of escalating the situation into a full-blown quarrel, the other woman simply narrowed her eyes as if she was trying to figure something out.

"You're Cuddy aren't you?" Shocked that she knew who she was, her mouth couldn't seem to verbalise the affirmative, so she nodded her head, the gesture drawing bemused surprise from the pretty red-head. "Wow!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing… It's just he seemed convinced that you two were done for good. After the crash, I mean."

Staggered that he would divulge the details of what he'd done to someone else, Cuddy shifted her weight from one foot to the other and rested one hand on the rim of the sink next to her in an attempt to steady herself.

"He told you that?"

"We talked about a lot of stuff," she responded matter-of-factly. "About what happened to his leg, the Vicodin, prison, his best friend dying of cancer, what his Dad used to do to him when he was a kid. He even mentioned that woman he slept with while he was in Mayfield… It's no wonder he's as screwed up as he is, or that he's incapable of being in a proper relationship… I was grateful that he was straight with me about not wanting to settle down with anyone. I've got a four-year old to think about… Thinking back now, I was stupid for even considering it."

Reeling from the information, Cuddy gulped back the nausea she was starting to feel, and began to wish this was a dream. Morbid curiosity made her push on however.

"What exactly did he say to you?"

"I can't remember his exact words," she shrugged, tucking her long hair behind her ears. "But he said something along the lines of feeling trapped in every relationship he'd ever been in, and that he never had any intention of being shackled to a kid either… I was upset at the time. You probably know that Greg can be a lot of fun to be around, but let's face it, he's never going to be the married with two kids type is he?"

"You really think that?" Cuddy inquired evenly, removing the emotion from her voice on purpose. She'd be damned if she was going to give her any indication of her inner turmoil.

Suddenly appearing remorseful, the woman seemed to shuffle awkwardly on the spot and pulled her bag towards her as if she was considering making a getaway.

"I've probably already said too much."

"I'd like to hear your opinion," the older woman persisted firmly.

"He just strikes me as the type of guy, who the closer you get to, the further he pushes you away… For men like that, after the novelty at the beginning wears off, long-term relationships feel like trying to push a square peg into a round hole… In my experience they never change either." Nervously she looked at Cuddy, and saw the despondency there. "But I guess you know him better than I do… You must do to want to give it another try after what happened."

Not quite knowing what to do with herself, labouredly Cuddy grabbed her purse from on top of the counter, and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Every indication of her previous happiness had evaporated, leaving a frown on her face that cut painfully deep into her forehead.

"I'm not sure I do know him," she mumbled to herself. "Thanks for the chat."

And with that she swiftly turned on her heel and exited the bathroom, stalking through the bar and back to where House was waiting for her at the booth.

"I thought I was going to have to call the cops and form a search party," he cracked.

Not responding straight away, instead she pulled her jacket on and then turned to him.

"I'm going home."

Mistaking her coolness for a willingness to get somewhere more private, so they could finish what they'd started earlier, House slid along the seat and stood next to her.

"Somebody's eager." Bending down to her level, he grinned salaciously and whispered into her ear. "Can't think why."

"I'm going home _alone_," Cuddy replied sharply, not even bothering to look back as she rapidly made her way outside.

Baffled by her reaction House followed her, unconcerned by the individuals he bumped into as he attempted to keep her in his sights. Eventually catching up with her in the street, he placed a hand on her shoulder and span her round, surprised by the mix of anger and hurt etched across her features as she was forced to regard him.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she echoed sardonically, a wry snort accompanying the repeated question.

"What happened in between you inviting me back for mind-blowing sex, and you coming back from the bathroom?"

"I met your fuck buddy!" Immediately his face fell, realisation changing his expression from perplexed amusement to the disappointment of being caught out in a lie. "The one you conveniently didn't know twenty minutes ago."

"We were on a date. I was hardly going to introduce you to her." Frustratedly he ran his fingers through his hair, as she continued to glower at him. Could she really have expected him to do that? The whole idea seemed faintly ridiculous.

"Why not?"

"Because why would I?" he scoffed. "Jane didn't mean anything to me. It was just sex… Not even particularly great sex either."

Irritated that he was trivialising the whole thing, Cuddy could feel the rage seeping out of her pores.

"If she meant nothing to you then why does she know things about you that I don't?... Better still, why did you tell her things about us, things I'd rather weren't broadcast to whatever woman you're sleeping with at the time?"

"Since I've been out of prison, I've slept with one person. You know that."

"And what about before?... Aside from all the hookers, what about the woman you screwed in Mayfield?"

Instantly House felt the colour drain from his cheeks. Drunkenly shooting his mouth off was really coming back to bite him in the ass.

"She told you about Lydia?"

"You made me feel so guilty about Lucas," she responded unevenly, her fury giving way to distress. "Even tonight… I felt like a bitch for getting involved with someone when you getting clean. All the while you'd had somebody else too… Was that just sex as well? Didn't she mean anything either?" Evasively he looked down at the sidewalk. "I guess that answers my question."

Noticing a young man leave the bar behind them and lean against a wall to light up a cigarette a few feet away from them, House began to feel self-conscious that they were having this argument out in the open.

"Do we have to do this here?"

"Why not? God knows who else you've told about us!... Was I not humiliated enough at the time?"

"I haven't told anybody else anything," he replied, trying in vain to stay calm as panic began to set in. "Let's just discuss this back at your place."

"What's the point?" Wildly her arms flung out in front of her. "Stupidly, I thought the crash was the biggest thing we had to get over, but it's not. We are."

Confused by the statement, he needed her to clarify.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

As if in pain, Cuddy closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath to steel herself for what she was about to say.

"I need things from you that I'm not sure you can give me, and you shouldn't have to change who you are for my sake… I dumped all of this on you; Gabe, me being sick and that wasn't fair. Now you feel obligated to stick around."

"This is bullshit!" House spat, a lump forming in his throat. "What the hell did she say to you in there?"

"She made me take a step back and get some perspective… We got carried away with ourselves and rushed into this without thinking what was really for the best for everyone."

Feeling like a man waiting for the executioner, desperately House reached out and clasped her hand in his, his fingers winding around hers.

"I love you." Sincerely he looked into her eyes, attempting to leave her with no doubt that he was telling the truth.

"I know you do. I love you too, but I don't think it's enough… Years from now, when this has stopped being new and exciting again, when you have mundane things to do like drop the kids off at their friends or help them with their art projects, I can't imagine you being happy… You thrive on chaos and hate routines. You always did… After everything that the kids have been through already, I want them to have some stability." Whilst a tear fell along the inside of her cheek next to her nose, she awkwardly untwined her hand from his. "I don't want to tie you down to something that'll end up making us both miserable either… Not when you're not one hundred percent sure that this is what you want."

"How many times do I have to tell you? I am sure!"

"Maybe you think you are, but…"

"Oh for God's sake!" he interrupted heatedly. Hadn't he proved himself enough to her by standing up to her Mom and sister? "Is this even about me? Or is this about you having second thoughts, and looking for a way out?"

"You lied to me!... After I told you how important it was to me that you didn't. After the problems lying caused us in the past."

"It was hardly a punishable offence," he scoffed with bravado. "How many guys do you think go out of their way to introduce their girlfriend to the woman they slept with for a couple of months?"

"Why can't you see why this is a big deal? That for my sake, and the sake of the kids, I need to know I can trust you… I'm not even sure you trust me. Not with some things. Not if you'd rather share them with a stranger."

Squaring his jaw, he looked past her and focused on the shop window behind them, their reflections once again confirming that this was really happening.

"So is that it?"

Shaking her head, she wiped her damp cheek with her palm, her temples throbbing with the strain of the situation.

"I don't know… My head's spinning. I need time to think."

"So do I," House answered abruptly, his temper fraying as his leg began to ache. "I need time to think about why I let myself get involved again with a manipulative bitch, who constantly blows hot and cold." As soon as he saw the upset on her face, he instantly regretted it. Almost as if she been punched in the gut, she took a sharp intake of breath, her mouth forming a small 'o' as the shock registered on her features. "I… I'm sorry."

Ignoring his apology, silently Cuddy turned and walked away from him to her car, rifling through her purse and finding her keys, before bundling herself into the red Lexus and driving off without giving him a second glance.

"That was harsh, dude," the young man behind him commented, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stamping it out with his boot.

In no mood for anybody else's words of wisdom, House span around and glared at him.

"If I'd wanted you're advice, I'd have fucking asked for it."

Not rising to the bait, he threw his hands up defensively and walked back into the bar, leaving House on his own in the bracing chill of the night.

Alone again, he felt like screaming.


	12. Chapter 12

_Thanks for reading and reviewing guys. I like reading what you have to say so keep the comments coming!_

_I'm afraid I'd really have to disagree with the person who said he wouldn't have told Jane. He has a history of divulging private things that neither Cuddy nor Wilson knew about him to strangers. In 'One Day, One Room' he tells Eve about his 'Grandmother' making him take ice baths, and in 'Lockdown' he tells the dying patient about Lydia. Telling a dying man, someone he won't see again or even someone he has no emotional investment in has no fallout. On the other hand, Cuddy and Wilson opinions of him mattered. For someone who has a constant and perhaps understandable fear of abandonment, showing a vulnerable side that may affect their perception of him is risky, in his mind at least. Ironically, it's the very defence mechanism he clings to to keep people around that ends up pushing them away._

_Shore owns nearly all of them except Gabe. He's my little dude._

* * *

For ten minutes straight he'd banged on her door after the taxi dropped him off, all the while picturing Cuddy attempting to ignore him at the back of the house. Refusing to be put off House found her spare key outside and let himself in, only to find the place empty and eerily quiet. Confused by her absence, he sat in the darkened living room and waited… And waited. Two and a half hours later, after reaching her voicemail on numerous occasions, finally he heard her park her car in the garage and the key jangle in the door, before she stepped into the hall, quickly slipping her heels off and intent on heading to her bedroom to try and get some sleep.

"I was starting to get worried," he said softly, making her start as she saw him in the shadows.

"Well you wouldn't have been if you hadn't have broken into my home." Irritated by his presence, she brusquely switched the light on and watched him blink against the harshness of the light, as he twisted himself around to regard her.

"I didn't break in. If you're still stupid enough to leave a spare key outside, then I'm going to use it."

Pressing herself back wearily against the archway into the living room, Cuddy shook her head and sighed. She didn't need a re-match.

"I'm not in the mood for another argument."

"I came to talk, but then you weren't here… Where did you go?"

"I'm a grown woman. I can go wherever the hell I like without asking your permission."

"I know that," House answered evenly, successfully toning down his own irritation. "But contrary to what you think right now, I actually give a crap about you."

Awkwardly she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and then curled her toes into the wooden flooring, the coolness soothing the sore balls of her feet. She was still pissed off, maybe a little with herself too, but that was the one thing she needed to hear him say to get her to put her guard down a little.

"I went for a drive. To clear my head."

"Did it work?"

Appearing to consider his question, slowly Cuddy rounded the sofa and flopped down next to him, her head falling back exhaustedly.

"A little… I just kept on thinking we're exactly where we were six years ago. I'm not sure if I can trust you and you think I'm messing you around."

"Six years ago I'd have gone back into that bar and drank my body weight in whiskey, before going home and mainlining the Vicodin… Part of me was tempted, believe me."

"So why didn't you?"

House shrugged.

"Six years ago I wasn't somebody's Dad… This whole being a responsible parent thing can be a pain in the ass."

"Tell me about it," she breathed wearily. Becoming a Mom the first and second time wasn't something she regretted at all, but there were odd occasions when she longed for the emotional freedom she had before. If she struggled with it sometimes, it was hardly surprising a self-confessed lone wolf like House might bemoan the same thing. The important thing was that he was there, and not nursing his hurt pride with alcohol and drugs. It was a big deal.

Sensing his eyes on her, she turned to face him. Gone was the arrogance and confusion she'd seen when they'd argued before, instead he was looking at her with a degree of personal clarity and sincerity. Evidently the time apart had allowed him to clear his head too. "Back then I also had no idea how pathetic my life could be without anybody I really cared about in it. I'm not moronic enough to let you go again without a fight."

Pleased to hear him say it after what happened last time they broke up, she sighed in relief and mulled over her own part in what had happened. If he was affording her the courtesy of being honest and not backing off, she had to do the same.

"I panicked… She told me you were never going to be the type of guy who'd want to settle down with a family, and I chose to believe a complete stranger over you… I'm an idiot."

"To be fair that's exactly what I told her. I meant it at the time… And then you wandered back into my life with Rachel and Mini Me." Bowing his head and glancing at the magazines on the coffee table, he couldn't help but remind himself how much of a lucky bastard he was. How often did people his age get a second chance as big as the one she'd offered him? If he wanted this to work he was going to have to break the habit of a lifetime and be more open about his fears, his hopes and his insecurities with her. "I'm sorry you had to hear about Lydia from someone else."

"I don't know," she conceded. "It's no worse than the way you found out about Lucas."

Giving her a curt nod, his thoughts flew back to that day he'd walked into her hotel room and saw the private detective there playing with her daughter. There was no getting around the fact it had been a huge blow at a time he was still finding his feet after Mayfield.

"I suppose."

"What happened?... With Lydia."

"Two lonely people consoled themselves with the fact they were the least insane ones in the lunatic asylum," he cracked, the smile on his lips not quite meeting his eyes as he tested the water.

"She was a patient too?"

House shook his head.

"She used to visit her sister-in-law… She played the piano and that's how we started talking."

"So you had something in common?" Generally they didn't share the same hobbies and interests, and in the past that had been a sticking point for them. That he'd found someone who shared someone who shared his passion for music did bother her.

"In that we were both unhappy and knew the difference between an e flat and an e sharp, yeah."

Gathering her thoughts for second, Cuddy worked up the courage to ask the thing she had to know.

"Was it serious?"

"I thought it could be," he answered honestly, recollecting the night he'd gone to visit her at her home. "But she had kids and a husband, who she was never going to leave." Seeing the alarm on Cuddy's face, he knew he needed to explain how he felt about it in retrospect. "Now I look back and it's obvious it was a proximity thing. Like a holiday romance, except the hot girls in bikinis were ugly attendants with strait-jackets and sedatives… My head was all over the place. I'd just hallucinated having sex with you, my best friend wasn't allowed to come and visit me, and Nolan was pushing me to make a connection with somebody… I was just lonely and so was she. There's no need for you to feel jealous."

"And yet…"

In response House smirked deviously.

"Is it bad that I feel kinda good that you do?"

"Kinda, yeah," Cuddy replied, scowling back at him.

"You seemed like a million miles away when I was in Mayfield. I wasn't even sure if I was going to work in medicine again, let alone be around you anymore."

"It didn't help that I tried to distance myself when you came back either."

"You were trying to protect yourself, Rachel and your job from someone who was unstable. It's understandable… I ended up proving that your first instinct was right."

"I couldn't keep away," she admitted. "Back then or this time."

"It is different this time." There was a certainty in his statement that neither of them could refute. It wasn't just that they had a son, although that was obviously a huge part of the equation, but something about them as individuals had changed too. Painful experiences had left emotional scars that they'd once and for all decided to learn from, instead of burying their heads in the sand. There was too much to lose if they didn't.

Finding his hand, Cuddy pulled it onto her lap and drew circles in his palm with her thumb, the contact soothing the pair of them.

"I wish we knew back then what we know now," she mused out loud, making him snort.

"You have no idea how many times I've had imaginary conversations with my younger self."

Intrigued by the idea, she delved deeper.

"What would you have told him?"

Taking the time to contemplate his answer, House slid further down the sofa.

"That there are worse things than being wrong."

Genuinely surprised by his answer, momentarily Cuddy wondered if she'd heard him properly. So much of his ego, his self-worth were tied up in his intellect and being right. This admission that maybe the pursuit of the truth at the cost of all else wasn't always the best thing for him was huge. Leisurely she leant to the side and lay her head on his shoulder, thinking about what she'd have told herself.

"I'd tell myself not to take things for granted… To stop trying to plan every little thing in my life weeks, months in advance, and appreciate the here and now… The one good thing about leaving the hospital and changing jobs was that I got to spend more time with the kids when they were really small… My priorities changed."

"You must miss the place though," House responded, his words tinged with guilt. "PPTH used to be your baby."

"It's in the past now." Unwilling to give it too much thought, she nuzzled further into his neck, and decided to change the subject. "Why did you tell Jane all those things? Why her?"

Deep in thought he twisted his neck, and let his cheek rest against her forehead, the move seeking to reassure her before he explained.

"Because she was the first person who'd shown an interest in a long time… Because pretty much every time I saw her I was drunk, and I didn't really care what she thought about me anyway… Most of the time I wanted to see how much I could tell her before she ran for the hills."

"But she didn't. She liked you."

"I think she had some kind of weird gimp fetish," he blurted out. Baffled by the statement, Cuddy lifted her head and saw his bemused smile. "She used to go on and on about her three-legged dog, and how they'd had this wheel attached where his leg used to be. Maybe she had some sinister plan to do the same to me?" Entertained by the mental picture he'd conjured up, she let out a hearty chuckle that made him laugh too. "I'm glad you find this so amusing," he countered with mock indignation. "But I was nearly half man, half unicycle."

Initially grinning widely at the joke, she looked at him and soon her smile began to evaporate as she thought of a way to approach something else that had been troubling her.

"She mentioned your Dad." Immediately she felt House tense up, and decided to tread carefully. "I knew things were strained between you. Wilson told me he wasn't your biological father."

"Of course he did. Expecting Jimmy to keep something to himself was like expecting the sun not to rise."

"I don't expect you to talk about it if you don't want to," she ventured cautiously. If he thought she was pitying him, it'd piss him off and make him clam up altogether. "I just want you to know that you can."

Opening his mouth, he seemed to hesitate and then close it again, before making another attempt to speak.

"I can't do that now." Gravely he stared at her, and she knew not to push anymore.

"Whenever you're ready to, I'm here."

Looking away momentarily, he gave an almost imperceptible nod and then turned back with a quizzical frown.

"Are you still my girlfriend?"

"Yeah," she confirmed with a smirk. "I'm still your girlfriend."

"It's late," he replied, gesturing to the clock on the mantel. "Don't suppose there's any chance of a sleepover after all?" In a humorous attempt to strengthen his case, he batted his eyelashes rapidly and stuck out his bottom lip, drawing a snigger from her.

Extracting herself from her spot on the sofa, she stood up and held her hand out for him to take, his fingers soon wrapping around hers as he got to his feet and followed her out of the room, flicking off the switch on the way.

"You hog the covers again, and I'll kick your ass."

"You snore again, and I'll…" he began as he walked after her down the hall, only to be interrupted.

"Shut up, House!"

* * *

Somewhere in the distance he could hear his name being called. Choosing to ignore it, he stretched his legs out in the bed and turned onto his side, burying his face into the cold part of the pillow and endeavouring to fall back into the deep sleep he was previously enjoying. And then he heard it again, or to be more precise, he heard her, her hand snaking up his side as she attempted to wake him up.

"Are you kicking me out again before the kids get back?" he inquired sleepily, his eyes remaining firmly closed. They hadn't really discussed what their plan of action was in relation to the children. Both exhausted by last night's histrionics, they'd barely had the energy to undress before they hit the sheets and fell sound asleep.

"No." Gently Cuddy ran her fingers through his hair as she looked down at him. She had no plans to do that at all. It was pointless them keeping Rachel and Gabe in the dark, because the sooner everything was out in the open, the sooner everybody could start readjusting to the new situation. "I was wondering what you were dreaming about that made you moan so loud you woke me up."

"Oh it was good!" House elucidated, licking his lips. "It involved you, me, a secluded beach and a lack of clothes, so if there's nothing else I'd really like to get back to it."

"That's a shame," she responded coyly, patting his back and repositioning herself away from him on her back. "I was going to suggest we have sex, but if you're too tired…"

Instantly one of his eyes popped open.

"You're serious?"

"I was, but I'd hate to interrupt your beauty sleep… I might just take a shower."

As she attempted to make a move, House reached behind him and grabbed her wrist.

"Uh-uh. You're not going anywhere." Turning back over and tentatively opening his eyes against the daylight filtering into the room through the window, he yawned and then smirked at her. "Hop on, lusty wench!"

Shuffling towards him, pushing back the covers and then swinging one leg over his waist, from her new vantage point she regarded him with one eyebrow raised.

"You're calling me a wench _and _you're expecting me to do all the hard work?"

Feigning nonchalance, House shrugged.

"If you date an old misanthrope with a bum leg, what do you expect?"

"Oh I don't know," she answered sarcastically, pretending to mull the question over as her hands fell to his chest. "Maybe the odd compliment…"

Looking up at her, his eyes now more or less adjusted to the light, he smiled. Sure, he loved the Cuddy that everybody else saw, the one who poured herself into a dress and coiffured every inch of herself before she deemed herself fit to step out into the big, bad World, but the one before him right now with slightly dishevelled hair and a sleepy grin was something else. In the past he'd always felt oddly privileged that she'd let him see that side to her, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"You're beautiful."

"That's a little better."

"I'm just stating the obvious. It's demonstrably true, you are beautiful." Unceremoniously he reached around and cupped both her ass cheeks through her sleep shorts. "You also have a huge ass."

"And the moment is ruined," she sighed, threatening to move away when he gripped her tighter.

"I told you you're not going anywhere."

"Is that so?" she challenged, her lips curling into a grin that mirrored his.

"Yeah, now lose the vest." Watching her eyes narrow at the request, diffidently he stared back and relished the game they were playing.

"And what if I don't want to?" Teasingly she ground her groin against his and felt his cock twitch against her, his fingers grasping her even more possessively as his gaze fell to where their bodies met.

"You want me to beg?" he gulped.

Shaking her head, she grinned broadly and pulled the blue vest over her head, throwing it onto the floor next to the bed, before turning back to him and feeling oddly self-conscious. Almost as if he was studying her half naked frame as he observed her, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"It's been a while since you saw me like this. Not everything is in quite the same place it used to be." Looking down at herself nervously, she bit her lip. "I also had a baby."

Irritatedly he rolled his eyes. If anybody should have hang-ups about their body, it should be him. The years had treated her a lot more kindly than they had him.

"If you had any idea how turned on I am right now, you wouldn't feel the need to give me ridiculous, unnecessary excuses." Seeing her frown, he reached up and ran his thumb over her lip, slowly and deliberately tracing his fingers down her neck, before circling her areola and then letting his palm come to rest on her abdomen. "I wish I'd been there. When you were pregnant. When Gabe was born."

"I was massive towards the end," she confided. "You would have teased me mercilessly."

"Probably."

"I wanted you there. I spent most of the pregnancy convincing myself that I was better off without you in my life, but when I held him that first time…" She paused for a second and looked away, the memory still a potent one. "I wanted to share him with you, but I couldn't."

Sensing her grief for all the time they'd wasted, he pulled her towards him and kissed her forehead.

"I'm not going anywhere now."

"You have to mean that." There was a need for reassurance in her tone that he couldn't ignore. Yes, she'd sought it before, but it was hardly surprising that she was asking for it again after everything that had happened.

"I mean it." Delicately he pushed her hair back from her face and brought his mouth to hers, embracing her in a way that he hoped would demonstrate his determination to stick around, his lips claiming hers both possessively and reverentially. Eventually drawing himself away, he flipped them both other so he was now on top and grinned at her triumphantly. "Besides, if I went away how would I play with your boobs?"

"Such a gentleman!" Cuddy declared, trying in vain to hide her amusement.

"I know," he shot back, his fingers dipping into the hem of her shorts and unhurriedly reaching the wet juncture between her thighs. Slipping two of them inside her, he felt her hips rise up to meet him as her eyes rolled back into her head. "Which is why I won't let any woman of mine complain that I don't do my fair share of the hard work."

* * *

Feeling his eyes on her as she pushed herself forward on the floor, Cuddy couldn't help but turn around to see if she was right. Sure enough, House was watching her intently from the sofa, intermittently lifting his spoon from the bowl cradled in his hand and shovelling cereal into his mouth. With his hair still damp and mussed from the shower and his shirt barely buttoned up, he looked like he'd just gotten up, which wasn't too far from the mark. After they'd had sex the second time, he'd passed out and she'd let him sleep, resolving to let him rest while she made sure everything was in order before the kids came back. An hour and a half later he was rummaging in the kitchen for something to eat, and then settling down to watch her work out.

"You never used to be this interested in Yoga," she chided good naturedly, more or less giving up and sitting down on the mat. There was no way she could maintain her concentration if she knew he was looking at her, especially after what they'd spent a good portion of the morning doing. With every single nerve-ending on her body still singing after their earlier love-making, it was practically an impossibility to remain focused with him in the room. Slightly embarrassed by the thought, she wondered if she was visibly glowing.

"Apparently I have a newfound appreciation." Placing his bowl on the coffee table, he lowered himself onto the floor and awkwardly crawled towards her, pulling her towards him and letting her settle between his thighs as her back pressed up against his chest. "You could give me a few pointers."

Tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, he bent forward and kissed her neck, the feel of his stubble against her skin making her sigh happily.

"Something tells me you're not interested in yoga at all."

"You're wrong," he countered, nipping the lobe of her ear between his teeth. "I'm a big fan of downward facing dog."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah!"

"I enjoyed earlier," she whispered, not quite sure why she felt the need to lower her voice, but going along with the urge anyway. "I enjoyed it a lot."

"This is what happens when you date a sex god... It's good to know I can still make you scream, and not just when you're pissed with me."

"So modest!" she declared, feeling the colour rise in her cheeks. He'd always had a special talent for making her vocalise her pleasure. Taking a deep breath, she internally rejoiced at the feel of his fingers gently running up and down her arms.

"Imagine if I had this ego and nothing to back it up with."

Craning her head back to look at him, she saw the relaxed mirth on his features and was about to kiss him when the opening of the front door diverted their attention to the hall. Bounding into the house, Rachel dropped her overnight bag on the floor and turned into the living room, stopping in her tracks when she saw the two adults cosily sitting on the floor together. Within seconds Arlene and Gabe followed her in, both of them soon flanking her wearing similar expressions of surprise. Propelled to get up for the sake of propriety, Cuddy jumped to her feet and helped her boyfriend up too, everybody a little lost for words as they stared back at each other like they were humans making first contact with an alien life form. Eventually it was Rachel who ended the deadlock.

"Are you two back together?"

Initially looking from her to House, the nine year old's Mom grasped his hand and nodded.

"Yeah, we're back together. Is that ok with you guys?"

As Rachel's face began to light up with excitement, her brother's face fell, disappointment soon giving way to anger. Without warning he snatched the car keys from his Grandmother's hand and ran out of their home again, everybody momentarily dumbfounded until Cuddy sprang into action.

"I'll talk to him," she declared, quickly pushing past her Mom and stepping outside, only to find her son in the driver's seat of Arlene's car and attempting to turn on the engine. Endeavouring to remain calm, she opened the passenger door and sat next to him, taking a deep breath before talking to him. "Where exactly are you planning on going?"

"I'm not staying here." Defiantly he tried to turn the engine over again, only for her to reach over and pull the keys out of the ignition. "Mom!" he protested.

"Your feet can't even reach the gas. How exactly are you going to drive this thing?"

Bad temperedly he folded his arms across himself and scowled, ironically looking like a younger mirror image of the very man he was railing against.

"I'll get Grandma to take me home with her. I can live there."

"You know Grandma's not well enough to have you there all the time."

"Then I'll go to Aunt Julia's."

Shaking her head Cuddy watched the five year old's brow furrow deeper, knowing full he knew how ridiculous the proposal was. Instead of acknowledging that, inherent stubbornness was making him dig a deeper hole.

"You sleep on the floor in Joe's room when you stay over. You can't do that until you go to college."

With the air filtering out of his lungs as a signal of defeat, glumly his head hung forward.

"I liked it when it was just you, me and Rachel."

"I know you did," Cuddy acknowledged. "We've been through a lot of changes in the past few months, and this is a huge one too."

"Then why do you need to be with him?"

Looking back through the living room window, she watched House tentatively respond to a hug from Rachel, his hand slowly patting her back as if he wasn't quite sure what to do. Yes, they had a long way to go, especially judging by their son's outburst, but he really was trying and so was she.

"Because I love him, and because I want us to be a proper family."

"I don't like him," Gabe threw back unconvincingly.

"I think you do." Waiting to observe his reaction to the contradiction, she saw his eyes fly wide open like he'd been caught out. He didn't like Jonathan. That had been patently obvious from the start, she suspected because he couldn't hold her son's interest. Everything he did was transparent, above board to the point of dullness. House, on the other hand, was a mystery to him, and if there was one thing that linked Father and son together personality-wise, it was that they both liked a puzzle to solve. "I've seen you smile at some of his awful jokes when you thought nobody was looking."

Taking pause for thought something else seemed to trouble him, evidence of worry fleeting across his features.

"He hurt you."

Touched by his concern, she smiled broadly at him and cupped his chin reassuringly, her thumb brushing lightly against his cheek.

"He did," she nodded in agreement. "There were times in the past when I hurt him too, but I missed him. We missed each other… We can't let what we did before get in the way of what we could have now. I think we could have something really special."

"Is he just here for you?"

"I meant special for all of us," she explained, silently berating herself for not being more clear. "He wants to get to know you so badly. Not the grumpy, little guy he gets to see when he's here, but the one I know. The one who's super smart, funny and cares about the people he loves… You don't have to protect me, Gabe. It's my job to look after my baby boy."

Rolling his eyes, the little boy tutted loudly; a habit he'd picked up from Arlene.

"I'm not a baby anymore, Mom!"

"Like it or not, you and Rachel are always going to be my babies," she laughed as he screwed up his face in disgust. "Nothing and no-one is going to get in the way of that. I won't let it."

"Are you going to make me call him Dad?"

Instantly she shook her head. She wasn't even sure if that would be too much, too soon for House anyway. If and when that day came, it would have to feel right for both of them.

"Not if you don't want to… We take this one step at a time."

"Ok," he eventually agreed.

Relieved, Cuddy smirked at him and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Does that mean we can give Grandma her car keys back?"

He shrugged casually.

"I guess."

"Great!" she declared jovially. "When we go back in you can find that deck of cards in your room."

"Why?" he quizzed.

"You can show House what your Grandmother has been teaching you over the last couple of years."


	13. Chapter 13

_Big thanks to everybody who took the time to read, review, favourite and alert. Your thoughts are always welcome! _

_Not mine etc._

* * *

In the six weeks since they'd gotten back together, House had begun to relish the fact he had somewhere to go after he'd finished a day at work, other than the dreary mess of his apartment. He'd never considered himself much of a people person, let alone a family man, but the pull of a place where he was both expected and wanted was too much to rail against. Perhaps it was old age, he'd reasoned, before dismissing it as irrelevant. Whatever it was he was tentatively allowing himself to be happy, and seemingly making Cuddy happy in the process too. Rachel appeared to be over the moon as well, even if he wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps it was the fact she'd seen her Mother's contentment? Or, as was becoming an increasingly obvious yet baffling possibility, maybe she just genuinely liked him?

But Gabe was different.

Yes, his Mom's chat with him the day he inexplicably tried to steal his Grandmother's car had made a difference. The histrionics had stopped, as had the wilful attempts to ignore his presence in the household, even the guitar lessons he'd promised his son had gone relatively well, but there was still a barrier there; an invisible and yet tangible one. When he'd discussed it with Cuddy, she'd told House not to run before he could walk, to take his time and find a way in. Initially he'd thought the music would be just that, but to no avail. That was when he'd decided to change tack.

With a couple of books he'd 'retrieved' from work tucked under his arm, he opened the front door and stepped into the hall, welcoming the warm relief from the cool Winter air. Stepping into the living room he was greeted by the sight of Rachel stretched out on the sofa and Gabe slouched on the chair, one leg hanging over the side, as they both stared at the TV screen, engrossed in a cartoon.

"TV rots your brain," he declared, making them turn towards him. Instantly the nine year old smiled and moved her feet to let him sit down, as his son frowned.

"Mom said you used to watch stupid hospital shows instead of treating people sometimes."

"Being allowed to watch General Hospital was one of the things we agreed to in my contract… It's not my fault your Mom went back on that."

Simultaneously narrowing their eyes at him, House felt enveloped in a sea of suspicion.

"You're lying," Rachel deduced with a grin.

"Of course I'm lying… I was constantly trying to get out of clinic duty, but unfortunately for me your Mom had a special 'House is slacking off' antennae, which made me have to get creative with the places I hid… Supply cupboards can be dark and lonely." As the girl he was sitting next to laughed, he saw the corner of Gabe's mouth curl up in amusement out of the corner of his eye. "Speaking of your Mom, where is she?"

"She's in the dining room," the boy answered. "With some guy. She told us not to disturb her for a while."

Confused by the information, House didn't quite know how to respond, his mouth simply forming into a quiet "Oh!" She hadn't mentioned that she was expecting anybody, so this came out of left field. Who exactly would be making a personal visit to her home at gone six 'o' clock on a Thursday evening. Determined to find out, he rose to his feet again, remembering the books precariously balanced on the arm of the sofa where he'd set them as he did so. Picking the first one up he handed it to Rachel, and saw her look back at him, a little baffled.

"An animal encyclopaedia?"

"Yeah," he countered. "You said the other day you wanted to be a vet when you were older. It'd help if you knew the difference between a raccoon and a river turtle."

After flicking through the pages briefly and looking at the pictures inside, she lifted her head and smiled at him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Looking back at Gabe, he saw the little boy glancing at the other remaining book, and duly gave it to him, looking on in bemusement as he read the title and a deep crater formed in his brow.

"The Theory of Everything?"

"You're always asking questions," House shot back. "There's some answers… It's probably too much for you now, but keep on picking it up and trying. One day you'll get it… And then have even more questions."

With the frown still gracing his face, the five year old nodded and offered quiet thanks, swiftly placing the book on his lap and turning back to the TV screen. Placated enough by his act of benevolence, House left them to it to find Cuddy, limping through the kitchen and then into the dining room, announcing his arrival with a sharp cough as his girlfriend sat next to a vaguely familiar silhoutte at the table.

"Should I be concerned that you've moved on to black guys now?"

Without twisting fully round to regard him, she looked at her guest apologetically.

"You'll have to excuse my boyfriend for being an ass. He can't help it."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Sanford Wells commented jovially, getting up off his chair to shake hands with his former acquaintance. "It's good to see you House. Alive, at the very least."

"I prefer to be called Lazarus since I found Jesus. By dating Cuddy I like to think I'm doing my bit for Judeo-Christian relations."

Puzzled by the statement, the other man decided to ignore it and look back at the woman he'd originally come to see.

"I'll leave you to it, Lisa. It looks like you've got your hands full… Think about what I proposed."

"I already gave you an answer," she responded wearily.

"And people change their minds all the time." There was a confidence in his tone that bordered on smugness, a trait that came with years of not being used to people saying no to him. "I gave you my number?"

"Yes."

"Then make sure you call me either way," he insisted, a little too vehemently for House's liking. "I'll let myself out."

Excusing himself as he pushed past him, Wells left the pair of them staring at each other; a dialogue going on without the need for words. Eventually the ache in his thigh forced him to sit down next to her, and she knew he knew what was going on.

"So he wants you to go back to the hospital?"

"Foreman's leaving. He wants to go back into medicine full-time and an opportunity to head up a new neurology department came up in Washington… The Board heard I'd moved back to Princeton and they want me to take over again."

"And you said no?" he asked quizzically.

Taking a deep breath, she looked away nervously.

"There are a million reasons why I shouldn't go back there."

"Maybe there are," he answered pragmatically. "But if they're not the right ones, it doesn't matter… You were forced to leave because of me…"

"I was pregnant," Cuddy interrupted. "Even if the crash hadn't happened, I still would have had to have taken maternity leave. You know I don't regret getting to spend extra time with the kids."

He nodded his head in agreement. She'd told him that was the case, and maybe he had framed his argument wrongly, but his point still stood.

"The kids are both at school now. I know staying at home on your own is driving you insane."

"There are other jobs at other places."

"Sure," he agreed. "But not at places you actually care about."

Sitting back in his chair, he watched her pinch the bridge of her nose, sigh and let her shoulders sag as if in defeat.

"It's pointless even considering it. I have panic attacks. Serious ones… How am I supposed to run a hospital with this condition?"

Bringing her hand to rest on his own palm, he let his index finger trace along one of her veins.

"And they're controlled with medication… The Cuddy I know can do whatever the hell she likes if she puts her mind to it."

"It's nice of you to say, but as soon as they find out about it, they'll withdraw their offer anyway."

"You don't know that," he contradicted. By his calculation, if the Head of the Board was making personal calls on an evening, then they were desperate to have her back. They were bound to be willing to make allowances.

"I've already said no."

House shrugged.

"Wells is right. People change their minds all the time."

For a long time Cuddy looked at him piercingly, her thoughts filled with conflicting hopes and doubts. Perhaps there were numerous reasons why she shouldn't go back, but the fact that her former boss had told her PPTH was struggling had had the desired effect of piquing her interest. The thought of another small hospital, _her hospital_, closing because of financial difficulties made her ache with restlessness and distress.

"I'll think about it," she finally conceded, noting the smirk form on his lips.

"Oh thank God! I thought I was going to have to give you this non-ironically." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a thin booklet and dropped it on the table, observing her eyebrow raise as she read the 1950's typeface.

"How to Keep Your Man Happy? Really?"

"It was meant to be a joke, but if you're determined to stay at home and not go back to work, then maybe…"

"You know, I still haven't forgotten how to kill a man with my thumb," Cuddy cut in, feigning disdain.

"Moving swiftly on, what are we having for dinner?"

"I have no idea!" she replied honestly. "But I'm tempted to make you cook it."

"After a hard day at work?"

"After a hard day at work," she echoed, sticking her tongue in her cheek and supressing a giggle.

"Takeout it is then!" About to get up to go in search of a menu, House felt her tug on his hand and pull him back down. "What's up?"

"Thank you."

"It's too early for that. There's every chance that you might be the one paying for the food."

"I'm not talking about that," she said, shaking her head. "I mean for caring enough not to take everything I say at face value. For caring about what's best for me."

As he pursed his lips, his blue eyes twinkled brightly.

"As your personal sex slave, that's my job." Squeezing her hand tightly when his girlfriend rolled her eyes, he looked at her more seriously. "Whatever you decide, it's fine by me. If you want to go back, yeah, it'll change things, but we can deal with it. Don't make a decision that you'll regret."

"Well to start with, we're not getting a pizza with anchovies on it."

Slyly House eyeballed her.

"It's a good job I'm really in love with you, because that's practically a deal breaker."

Coyly she bit her lip.

"I'm sure there's something I can do to make it up to you."

"Like what?" he shot back eagerly, his forehead creasing as she stood up and ran her fingers through his hair.

"I'll leave that up to you."

And with that she patted him on the cheek and began to walk away, his glued to her as she left walked back into the kitchen.

"You know I've got a vivid imagination," he called after her, a boyish grin lighting up his face.

"I'm banking on it!"

* * *

Absently House meandered down the hall, stifling a yawn as he reached Cuddy's bedroom door and turned the handle. Astonished by what lay in front of him, instead of closing his mouth again, he continued to catch flies. Lying on her stomach on the bed, his girlfriend nonchalantly flicked through the pages of the book he'd given her a few hours earlier and bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. Judging by the shocked look on his face, he'd clearly noticed she was naked.

"You took your time."

"I was just watching something," he mumbled back, still unable to peel his eyes away from her bare ass, all the while inwardly berating himself for loitering in front of the TV.

"You know this book is bullshit? Apparently the female of the species is genetically predetermined to be subservient to the male."

Too distracted to give her his usual sass, House answered honestly.

"I know. I said it was a joke… Um… You're not wearing any clothes."

"It's good to know your eyesight isn't deteriorating," she jibed, placing the book down at the side of the bed, and finally giving him her full attention. "I took a shower and then I thought it was pointless putting something on when you were going to take it off again."

"Sometimes that's half the fun."

"I can put something on if you want."

"No!" he insisted rather emphatically, unconsciously licking his lips when she rolled onto her side and allowed him to see the parts of her body she'd been concealing. Without even trying she was almost painfully sexy. Better still, this was all for his benefit.

"So how do you want me?"

Struck dumb by the offer, like a child in a candy store, there were too many scenarios going through his mind for him to articulate just one.

"There isn't enough blood getting to my brain…" he stuttered, faltering completely when Cuddy got off the bed and closed the gap between them, stopping less than a foot away from him. His gaze dropping to her breasts, formulating a coherent sentence began to seem like the hardest task in the World. "For me to…"

"For you to what?" Observing him expectantly, she let her hand rest on his chest, and looked on as his eyes fell to where they made contact. It still fascinated her that sometimes he continued to be taken aback by her willingness to be close to him. Then again, after a lifetime of pushing people away, was it really so surprising?

"No idea." Watching a ghost of a smile upturn the corners of his mouth, she responded in kind and shrugged her shoulders.

"Seems kind of unfair that I'm not wearing anything, and you've still got all your clothes on."

Not moving her eyes from his, she deftly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, letting it drop on the stool in front of her dressing table, before unhooking the belt on his jeans. That was when she saw the lust in his expression briefly alternate to fear. Worried by the change, she stilled her hand and frowned at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied unpersuasively.

"House?"

Acknowledging she wasn't going to let up, he sighed.

"Eighteen months ago the closest I got to someone being affectionate was when the prison guards patted me down… Sometimes I worry that this isn't real."

"You've not…?" She almost felt ashamed to ask if he'd taken something, after all he'd done so well for the past three years. Nevertheless he was a recovering addict and always would be. It was something that would continue to hang over them, even if she was determined to handle things differently if ever there did come a time when he relapsed again.

Sensing her unease, he shook his head.

"No, I just…" Embarrassed that he was doing this now when his gorgeous girlfriend was stood stark naked in front of him, he glanced away. "I just get scared that I'm going to wake up and that find out that none of this really happened."

Catching his chin between her thumb and index finger, she turned his head back to face her and regarded him seriously.

"It happened," she told him. "We happened, and we're going to keep on happening for a long time."

Devilishly, House responded with a raised eyebrow.

"I think that's probably an overestimation of your stamina, let alone mine."

Rolling her eyes, she got onto her tiptoes and allowed her mouth to find his, her hands clasping his cheeks as she pulled him into a comforting embrace. Responding to her his palms snaked up from her waist and found her breasts, flagrantly fondling the flesh there. Pulling away momentarily and leaning his forehead against hers, he tried unsuccessfully to stifle a snigger.

"Well these are definitely real." As if to prove his point, his thumbs swiped over her aroused nipples, making her shiver.

Going a step further, Cuddy unzipped his jeans and gently coaxed them down his thighs, brazenly taking in his newly exposed form as she made similarly short work of his boxers. Hearing his breathing step up, she reached out and gently grasped his cock, a low growl emanating from him when her fingertips delicately glided along the length of him.

"And so is this." Again she kissed him, this time fleetingly, before craning head back again to see the inflamed look on his face. "I want you."

"I thought this was about what I wanted," he murmured into her ear, as they awkwardly made their way over to the bed, her hand still caressing his now fully hard manhood, as his fingers unabashedly clawed at her backside. Abruptly her thighs hit the edge of the mattress and she fell backwards, pulling him with her, so he had to stop the momentum making them bang heads by putting his arms out either side of her, as his feet stayed planted on the carpet.

Looking up at the intense stare on his face as he hovered over her, Cuddy felt the excitement bubble in the pit of her stomach. He was just as turned on, just as in love, as she was.

"Something tells me this is what we both want."

"Turn over," he ordered, quietly but firmly. Silently his girlfriend questioned his seriousness, her brow creasing as she mutely quizzed him. It wasn't that she was particularly against the position he was requesting, they weren't exactly a strictly missionary kind of couple, nor had they ever been, it was more the fact it would put strain on his thigh. Slowly he nodded his head and repeated the request. "Turn over, Cuddy."

Following his request, she quickly flipped over and turned her head to the side, her thighs opening instinctively as House ran his fingertips down her spine, before cupping her ass and then reaching between her legs to check if she was ready for him. Satisfied, he positioned himself and pushed forward, drawing a lust-filled moan from her as he hit her sweet spot.

"Maybe there's something in that book after all?" he grunted, fighting the urge to move his hips. Similarly anxious for him to continue, Cuddy balled her fists into the covers and whimpered. One way or another he was going to drive her mad.

"Shut up and fuck me, House!"

Smirking to himself at her impatience, he leaned forward once more and started a steady rhythm that made her moan her appreciation, before brushing her hair to one side and feathering kisses along her neck and shoulders. Overwhelmed by the sensation, her body developed a mind of its own and mimicked his undulations, her back arching as he thrust deeper into her; her hand desperately freeing itself from his grasp to clasp the back of his head as he playfully nipped her skin with his teeth.

"Is this what you wanted?" he whispered into her ear hoarsely, picking up the pace and feeling her begin to shake beneath him.

In a haze of pleasure she didn't answer straight away, her eyelids fluttering closed as she fought to prolong the experience. A part of her was almost ashamed that he could be so thoroughly responsible for her physically and mentally unravelling, but that had always been the way. That the sex was just as good as the foreplay was another reason why she was like a moth to a flame as far as he was concerned. As she finally summoned up the concentration to respond, happily she mused that at least this was mutual insanity.

"God yes!" With her words signalling her orgasm, as if in the distance, she heard a slew of profanities as she took him with her, their frantic movements making the bed head slam against the wall obscenely.

Exhausted, House climbed onto the bed and rolled onto his back, holding out a hand for her to join him, as he fought to get his breath back. Wearily she dropped her head onto his chest and luxuriated in the sensation of contentment, her hand reflexively falling to his thigh to massage the muscle. Wincing a little as the adrenaline began to wear off, he couldn't help but appreciate the intimacy of the gesture.

"Does it hurt a lot?... I can get you something."

"It's fine." It was a half truth, but he really didn't want her to move. Holding her felt too nice. Minutes ticked by as they lay in a comfortable silence, his eyes beginning to close when he felt her nails softly draw swirls on his abdomen. Fully aware of the signs, it was obvious something was on her mind.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Spill," he implored.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and rested her chin on her palm, pursing her lips thoughtfully as she looked down at him.

"I spent twenty minutes deciding whether or not to buy coasters today."

"Exciting!"

"That's exactly my point! It's like I don't recognise myself anymore… Maybe it is time for me to get back to work."

"Then talk to Wells tomorrow. They're probably prepared to offer you whatever you want."

Worriedly, her jaw flexed.

"I'm scared," she admitted. "Scared that it'll make me a worse parent. Scared that I'm not even capable of doing it anymore." Visibly caught up in her fears, she paused and felt a lump in her throat. "And I'm really scared that going back would fuck things up between us."

"You are such a moron!" he shot back.

"Thanks being sympathetic to my concerns." Perturbed she moved away from to her side of the bed, and glowered at the bedroom ceiling.

Feeling the loss of closeness acutely, House scooted towards her and forced her to look at him.

"Firstly, being a badass Dean of Medicine makes you an awesome role model for the kids, not a worse parent. They can go to school and tell their friends their Mom makes it possible for doctors to save lives."

"You always told me my decisions made your job harder."

"Sometimes they did," he conceded honestly. "But they also stopped me from ending up in jail several years earlier, where I wouldn't have had a job at all… As for your capability, well, we both know you could run that place blindfolded."

Deep in thought, she looked at him searchingly.

"What about us?... Down the line are you going to resent me for being able to go back when you can't?"

A little taken aback by the question, he felt the need to consider his answer.

"You never should have been put in a position where you felt the need to leave in the first place. And don't give me the "I was pregnant" crap!" Sighing to himself, he fidgeted in the bed to make himself more comfortable. "Yeah, I miss medicine now and again, but I knew when I left Princeton with Wilson that I was putting that part of my life behind me. I've resigned myself to the consequences of my actions… Why would I resent you for being back where you belong?"

"It'd probably mean we'd get to spend less time together."

His face lighting up with a grin, he shrugged.

"Then we'll just have to be more efficient with the time we do get together."

"People would gossip about me going back, especially if they knew we were back together."

"Then I'd make sure to visit your office a couple of times a week and really give them something to talk about… Who cares? They'd all be petrified of you again within a couple of days, then normal service would be resumed."

"My employees weren't scared of me," she refuted indignantly.

"You say that, but there was that time you interviewed a guy and he literally wet his pants. And not because you were bladder-evacuatingly hilarious either."

"My hospital has standards," she began forcefully, soon realising her mistake when her boyfriend smirked triumphantly at her. Similarly amused, she stuck her tongue in her cheek and laughed. "You bastard!"

"Why? Because I got you to admit something that's true?... _It is your hospital. _I know it, you know it, and so do the Board, which is why it took them a total of three minutes before they came running to Mommy for help once they knew you were back… Call him tomorrow. Play hard ball."

"You really think I should?"

"Yes!" Kissing her tenderly on the cheek, he pulled her towards him and revelled in the feel of her nuzzling into him. "I'll just have to get used to being the sexy librarian in this relationship."

Hearing her giggle, he tried to make himself smile along with her. Realistically he shared her concerns, particularly about what this could mean for them, but how could he stand in her way? He wanted her to be happy, to feel fulfilled, he just hoped ultimately he'd remain part of that equation. Wrapping his arm around her more possessively, he forced himself to close his eyes and go to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14! Thanks guys for continuing to read and comment on this story. It's probably going to be the longest one I've written, so reviews are the kick up the bum I need to keep going. Thoughts about where you think this is going?_

_I know some of you have questions about various things. Some of them I'd rather answer during the course of the story, but there are a couple of issues I can clear up now. Firstly, House's parole ended just after Cuddy wandered back into his life. When he was talking to Chase in the bar he absolutely saw leaving NJ as a possible way forward, but was talked out of it. Secondly, and I think I did make this explicit, I really can't envisage him magically getting his license back after two stays in prison. I can't understand how he got it back in the first place to be quite honest, but that's 'Shore logic' for you._

_One person wondered if Jane was going to resurface. I hold my hand up on that one and admit she was a bit of a plot device to get them to discuss a few things. I've got too many other more important loose ends to tie up before this fic comes to a close to really consider another complication. Sorry. :/ _

_Most of these characters aren't mine. I borrow them._

* * *

Cuddy felt sick. The kind of nervous nausea she'd felt the day she'd gotten her med school exam results, but ten times worse. Looking herself over in her dressing table mirror, she sighed unhappily and pulled at her new, grey suit, fastening the jacket button and regarding her glum reflection. The truth was she felt completely out of her depth. For six years she'd been, first and foremost, a Mother. Her work at the charity in New York had just been a regular distraction that kept her ticking over financially and mentally, and hadn't been anywhere near as demanding, or indeed as rewarding as running PPTH. Now she wasn't entirely sure if she was still up for the job. There was so much to be done. So much had changed there. _She'd changed. _Worse still, everybody had seemed to have the utmost faith that she could pull it off. The Board had shrugged off her illness and told her if it was under control then they were happy to go ahead. They'd even laid a very attractive 'welcome back' bonus on the table on top of a more than reasonable salary, so great was their confidence in her abilities to turn around the waning fortunes of the hospital. But what if she couldn't? On the verge of picking up her cell to tell the Board she'd had second thoughts, a wolf whistle from someone a couple of feet away drew her away from the brink.

"You look hot!" Appreciatively House eyed her up and down as he stood in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing except a towel around his waist. It'd been years since he'd seen her in work attire, and boy she still knew how to fill a suit in all the right places. "I mean really, really hot."

"Hot wasn't the look I was going for," she responded irritably, slotting an earring through one ear and sliding the back on, as her boyfriend rounded on her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You look hot whatever you wear." Kissing her on the neck as she secured the other earring, he took in the floral scent of her perfume. "You smell incredible too… Kinda jealous that I'm not going to be one of the ones ogling you all day."

Seeing her expression change from one of mild irritancy to outright annoyance in the mirror, House felt her removing his hands from her waist before she span around to face him.

"Because that's exactly the kind of so-called encouragement I need right now."

"What did I do?!"

"Why don't you tell me that my ass looks great in this skirt, or that it won't matter if I make a complete fool of myself, because I'm wearing a push-up bra?" she quizzed sarcastically, her hands falling to her hips confrontationally.

Baffled by the outburst, House raised an eyebrow.

"Cuddy, I have no idea what you're talking about… I was just trying to tell you how good you look, which you do. As your boyfriend am I not allowed to feel a little sad that I'm not going to get the full benefit of your gorgeousness today, whilst a whole bunch of other people are?"

Taking a steadying, deep breath, she leant back against the table and looked down at the carpet. She felt like a fool, especially when her energy needed to be conserved for battles elsewhere.

"I'm sorry," she offered with a conciliatory smile. "I'm nervous and I took it out on you."

"I'll live." Smiling back at her, he threaded his fingers through hers and examined her. The dark rings under her eyes betrayed how fretfully she'd slept the night before, incessantly tossing and turning and waking him up more than once. "You've got nothing to be nervous about. You'll be fine."

"Really? Because I feel like I'm about to screw this up so badly."

"So what if you do?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she chided, throwing her head back in despair.

"I think you can do this with your eyes closed," he answered matter-of-factly, pulling her towards him and forcing her to look at him again. "But worst case scenario, so what if it doesn't work out? We can regroup and look at other options."

Amused at his level-headed approach to the situation, Cuddy regarded him with a glint in her eye.

"You almost sound like an adult."

Feigning shock, House's mouth fell open and he gasped.

"Of all the insults you've thrown at me over the years that is by far the worst!"

Chuckling at his pretend indignation, she wrapped her arms around him and enjoyed the closeness, the smell of her shower gel on him proving oddly comforting.

"I want to not fuck this up… This isn't just any job. PPTH always used to feel like the place I was meant to be."

"Then kick some ass today!" he encouraged simply. "Make them remember why they can't do without you… Just don't flirt with the Head of the Diagnostics department."

Pulling away, Cuddy frowned at him. Yeah it was a joke, but a part of him no doubt felt left out of the whole thing. Once upon a time, PPTH was his domain too.

"Chase is definitely not my type."

"You say that, but…" Before he had chance to finish his sentence, she grabbed his face and let her lips crash against his in a brief, yet meaningful embrace, her eyes burning into his when she broke away. "You're my type, House."

"Glad to hear it," he mumbled, his mouth still tingling from the kiss. "I could reciprocate the sentiment with ten minutes of heavy petting."

"As wonderful as that sounds, I really need to get going."

"Already?" Turning to check the time on the alarm clock, it confirmed what he thought. "It's only 7.30."

"I want to get there early, go over a few things and settle in before I have my first meeting."

He nodded. It would be a fruitless task trying to stop her. Risking making her late by asking her to have breakfast with him and the kids would probably elevate her anxiety levels even further, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Then call me at lunch."

"Ok," she agreed, pecking him on the cheek and starting to head towards the door. "Just remember to put some clothes on before you go out there. Marina's already arrived to see to Rachel and Gabe, and I don't want her walking out after I just convinced her to come back."

"Doesn't she know it's one of the perks of the job?"

"You might be my type, House, but you're not everybody else's." Coyly she bit her lip and turned back to look at him, as his eyes narrowing at her as if he was plotting something.

"I was going to wish you good luck, but I don't think I'll bother now." Pretending to be hurt, he limped over to the bed and sat down; his arms crossing his chest in defiance, as a smirk turned up one corner of his mouth.

"I love you," she said quietly, astonishing both of them with the timing and the sincerity of the statement. She hadn't really intended to say it. They weren't the type of couple to make those kind of declarations every two minutes, in spite of them being a hell of a lot more open and affectionate this time around. It had just slipped out.

"I… I know." He'd wanted to repeat it back to her, but for some reason the words wouldn't come out. "I'll speak to you later."

Attempting to hide her disappointment, his girlfriend nodded and shot him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, quickly exiting the room to say her goodbyes to the kids.

Newly alone in her bedroom, House scrunched his eyes shut and grunted unhappily. After everything they'd been through, why was it still so hard to tell her how he felt sometimes?

* * *

"Hey!" Cuddy said wearily into her cell when House finally picked up, slipping off her heels and resting her aching feet on her desk, as she looked around her office and decided a lick of much less drab paint would be necessary if she was going to spend any real amount of time there. Some of the furniture would have to go. Foreman's professional, yet clinical taste in interior design didn't match her own, nor did the project the kind of image she wanted when somebody set foot in the space.

"If this is your idea of calling me at lunch, I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'd be asleep if you were calling me at dinner."

Glancing at her watch as it approached six 'o' clock, she groaned.

"This is literally the first time I've had chance to sit down," she responded honestly. Understandably on the first day back after a regime change, her schedule had been crazy. "I'm still at work… Are you at home?"

"Yup! I didn't want to presume it was ok to just turn up at your place… It's a good job I didn't."

Immediately she frowned to herself. There was no mistaking the clipped edge to his voice. Could he really be annoyed at her for not ringing earlier?

"Are you pissed off with me?"

"Nope." There it was again: the curtness.

"You sound pissed," she insisted.

"Not pissed… So how was it?"

"A little awkward at first, but being busy helped…" Looking out through her office door she watched patients and nurses still milling around the clinic, and pressed her head back against the leather of her chair to give herself a more comfortable vantage point. It still felt surreal being there again. Oddly the same and yet different at the same time; almost as if she'd been picked up and dropped off in a parallel universe. She'd had a few odd looks from some members of staff who'd been there long enough to remember her from her previous tenure, but mostly everybody just wanted to keep their heads down and do their jobs in the exact same way she did. There had been one thing that bothered her however. "It's strange being here without you and Wilson."

After a long pause she heard him take a deep breath.

"I guess they don't make immensely talented diagnosticians and barely competent oncologists like they used to," he replied sombrely.

"How about you?... How was work today?"

"Same crap, different day."

"I missed you."

"Sounds like you didn't have time to," he said bluntly.

Rolling her eyes, Cuddy decided to throw in the towel. She'd intended to ask him to come around for dinner, but she suspected he'd neither accept, nor be the greatest company for her or the kids before they went to bed.

"For whatever reason you're really annoyed with me and I can't deal with that now. I'm too tired."

"Of course you are!" he spat sarcastically. "The Great Lisa Cuddy has returned to work, therefore the World has to stop!"

Taken aback by the venomous way he was talking to her, momentarily she was at a loss for words.

"I'm ending this conversation before one of us says something we'll really regret."

"Bye then!"

"Bye!"

* * *

Emphatically she pressed the 'End call' button on her screen and resolved to go home. She'd intended to invite him over for dinner, but what kind of company would he be for any of them if he was in that sort of mood? If he refused to tell her what she'd done wrong then how was she supposed to rectify it? Scooping up some paperwork, she slipped her shoes back, put on her coat and home.

Across town House sat in his dimly lit apartment with his phone still pressed to his forehead, his eyes closed as he realised how stupid he'd just been. The Advil had done little to abate the pain in his thigh all day, and the muscle was currently throbbing almost unbearably. Eventually throwing his cell aside onto the seat next to him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewellery box, his thumb rubbing over the soft material that covered it.

Even now, several hours later, he had no idea why he'd taken it.

Noisily House rapped on the apartment door. He really couldn't care less if it disturbed anybody else. His leg now hurt like hell and all he wanted to do was get inside and find somewhere to sit so he could alleviate the pressure from standing on it. When nobody came he refused to give up. He knew Chase was home. Light emanating from under the door and the feint sound of music gave that away, but he refused to be ignored. Lifting his cane, he knocked even harder on the wood and cleared his throat.

"I know you're in there, Skippy! I'm not going until you let me in!"

In the distance he heard some movement and then the patter of bare feet on floorboards that gradually became more distinct, before locks were undone and a head full of dishevelled blonde hair poked out.

"What do you want, House?"

"Social call!" he responded overly chirpily. Stepping forward to let himself in Chase held his ground.

"You don't do social calls."

Looking down at the floor, he shifted his weight awkwardly and pursed his lips.

"Cuddy and I had an argument."

"And that's my problem because…?"

"You're the reason we got back together. Technically this is your fault."

"You can't guilt me like you used to guilt Wilson," the younger man said defiantly, letting the door open a little wider as he folded his arms across his chest. Inside House could just make out a female figure picking up a jumper from the living room floor and tiptoeing out of sight. "Whatever happened between you and Cuddy is down to you guys."

"Which is actually code for 'I'm banging someone I picked up tonight, so get lost'" House shot back spitefully.

"What I do in my spare time is absolutely none of your business, so yeah, you can get lost."

About to shut the door, House hooked his cane in the gap between the jamb and finally let the desperation show in his eyes.

"I'm in pain," he admitted, lowering his voice so he couldn't be heard inside. "A lot of pain."

Sighing, Chase ran his hand through his hair and puffed his cheeks out.

"Wouldn't you be better going to Cuddy's?"

The older man responded with a shake of the head.

"In case you haven't noticed already, I'm in a crappy mood. I don't want to make things worse between us, and I sure as hell don't want the kids involved in that… When my leg's this bad I need a distraction. Seen as hookers are no longer on my radar, if I don't find one, Vicodin starts looking like a really good idea and I don't want to go there. _I can't go there._" Forlornly, he regarded the half-dressed man in front of him. He hated having to resort to this, but being on his own was driving him up the wall. "You're the only other person I know here now. The only other person I trust."

Throwing his head back in defeat, Chase pulled the door further open and stepped aside, gesturing for his former boss to come in.

"Find somewhere to sit and I'll be back in a minute," he said distractedly, grasping his t-shirt off the floor and hurriedly making his way to the bedroom to 'discuss' the situation with the girl he'd brought home.

In his absence, House pushed various empty take-out boxes off the sofa and sat down, stretching forward to pull the coffee table a little closer, before gingerly lifting his bad leg and resting it on the glass. With waves of relief permeating over him, he closed his eyes and listened in on the conversation in the other room, overhearing Chase turning off the 'mood music' and then charming his way out of it by promising to give her a call the day after. Of course he wouldn't. That wasn't part of his M.O. If she wasn't completely stupid, she probably knew that too.

Moments later a pretty brunette shyly scooted past him, awkwardly offering a "Hello" and leaving as fast as she could. As the door to the apartment closed, Chase brusquely flopped down onto sofa next to him and groaned disappointedly.

"I really liked her as well."

"What was her name?" House quizzed, balling up his fist and kneading it into his sore thigh muscle.

"Julie." The diagnostician's eyes narrowed as if he was questioning his own answer. "Julia… I think."

House snorted derisively.

"Wow! You two really had a deep connection."

"We might have done if you hadn't interrupted."

Throwing his hands in the air, the man next to him screwed his face up in disgust.

"Spare me! The pain already makes me want to vomit."

Looking skywards, Chase shook his head. As much as he begrudging found himself liking and respecting the guy, he really could be a prick. Silently he slid down the sofa and hooked his fingers behind his head, watching House continue to massage his leg out of the corner of his eye.

"You've taken something to try and calm it down? A non-opiate I mean."

"No, I waved my magic wand and hoped for the best!" he replied irritably, biting his lip through a jolt of pain. "Of course I did!"

Deciding not to take the bait, the younger one opted to go off on a tangent.

"Is this why you and Cuddy argued? You just snapped because of your leg?"

"Partly," House retorted honestly. "Maybe partly because I was jealous that she's gone back to PPTH when that's not an option for me… And believe me, I know how much of an asshole that makes me."

Chase shrugged.

"Being a doctor, solving cases, it used to be a huge part of your life. It _was _your life… I can understand why it must be difficult to see her going back to the job she loves when you can't."

"But I was the one who told her to go back. I'm happy she has. It's where she belongs." Seeing the confused look on his face, House paused and scratched his forehead. He was baffling himself. "That's not even really the reason I snapped at her."

"Then what was?"

Letting the air filter in and out of his lungs slowly, he reached into his jeans' pocket and pulled out the small, black, velvet covered box, before handing it over to the guy next to him. Opening it up, Chase frowned when he saw what was inside glinting back at him.

"A ring?... Are you planning on proposing?"

"With the ring her dead husband gave her?" he scoffed. "Yeah, that'd be entirely appropriate, Skippy!"

Even more puzzled by the article of jewellery he was currently holding, Chase's brow furrowed further.

"I don't understand why you have this."

"Neither do I," House mumbled, his thumb and forefinger pressing into his eye sockets. "I was looking for my wallet this morning and I found it… In the drawer next to her bed. The bed that we happen to share most nights these days."

"So you're pissed off that she's kept the ring now that you're back together?"

"Yes. No… Oh Jesus Christ, I don't know!" Sliding down the sofa himself, he wordlessly ruminated a little more on the matter for a moment or two. "She told me she loved him, not like it is for us, but she still felt enough for him once to make that kind of commitment to him once..."

"And you're jealous of that?" the younger man interrupted incredulously. "The man's dead!"

"If you'd shut up and let me finish…"

"Go ahead!"

"It's not her ex that really bothers me, it's what this represents… It's the fact she's the type of woman who, one day, is going to want to get married again. Deep down she's always wanted that kind of reassurance. That kind of permanence, even if she didn't have a clue how to sustain it."

Unhooking his hands from behind his head, Chase sat up and turned towards him.

"And you don't want that? Something permanent?"

"I love her," House mused out loud. "I think I was in love with her long before I consciously realised that was the case… Realistically I just don't understand how she'd benefit from being tied to me permanently… She tells me she needs me, and I really think she believes that, but the scales are never going to be equal in this relationship. I'm always going to be that stone around her neck, dragging her down, because that's what I do. That's who I am. I suck the life out of people until there's nothing left… I did it with Wilson, with her, with Stacy and with practically everybody that worked for me if they didn't get out early enough..." He stopped for a second and examined his former protégé guiltily. "Cameron told me I was the reason your marriage ended… That I ruined you. That I made you too much like me, and she's right... You're not happy, you work too much and you try to screw away the loneliness like I did a few years back. The only difference is you're pretty enough and not gimpy enough to have to pay for it."

Taking in his admission of culpability, Chase let his gaze fall to the floor. Rarely had the man he used to work for laid himself bare like this, or indeed conceded his wrong-doing in such an honest and upfront manner. It was actually a little unnerving.

"That's not true. About my marriage, or about you sucking the life out of people."

"Bullshit!" House dismissed immediately.

The younger man shook his head.

"My marriage ended because Cameron and I were fundamentally incompatible… She sees things in black and white, and I don't… It's why I couldn't hack it at the seminary, and it's why I stayed working for you for so long… As soon as she found out what I did to Dibala I became a murderer and nothing was ever going to change that. There isn't a single day that goes by where I don't feel guilty for doing something that led to a man's death, but I also think about all the people's lives I saved in the process and that's when I realise I'd do it again if I was in the same situation…"

He paused and looked House square in the eye, his finger pointing to himself.

"That's who I am. Who I always was… Sure, you may have shaped me a little, but the raw goods were always there and that's who Cameron couldn't stay with… You never ruined any of us. You just showed us who we really were in the cold, harsh light of day, and mostly that worked out for the best, even if it wasn't always pleasant. I'm not ashamed of who I am… The man I am, the doctor I am, allows me to work what seem like miracles to people who thought they were lost causes, and I'm proud of that. I know you used to be too… You used to go on and on about it just being about the puzzle, but then if you lost a patient you'd go off the rails. Why? Because lives mattered to you. People mattered."

"Are you sure it wasn't just about my ego being bruised?"

"Not a chance!" Chase contested. "You could have done anything you wanted, but you chose medicine."

"I wanted to be respected." Immediately House's mind flew back to the baraku he'd encountered in Japan as a child, and the high regard he'd been held in because of his expertise, in spite of his social standing. He'd always cited him as the reason he'd chosen to become a doctor, but was that really it? Not even he was certain.

"Maybe, and you were, but what really made you good at what you did was the fact you know what it feels like to be in pain. I'm not just talking about what's going on in your leg right now either." Knowingly the younger man continued to glower at him. His former employer didn't have to wear his heart on his sleeve for him to know that they'd both suffered varying types of neglect as children. You didn't develop House's particular hang-ups and quirks if your upbringing was entirely well-adjusted. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have been such a good advocate for what was right for the patient, even when their fears and instincts were making them want to run in the opposite direction of the treatment you were proposing… You've done some despicable things in the time that I've known you, but whether you like it or not, you're not a heartless bastard. You just make everybody believe that because it's a way of safeguarding yourself from more pain… Nothing ventured, nobody to slap you in the face at the end of it."

Feeling strangely proud of his former fellow's perceptiveness, a mischievous grin elevated one corner of House's mouth.

"You should probably have given diagnostics a swerve and become a shrink. More money and much more comfortable chairs to sit on all day."

"Is anything that I just said wrong?" Chase threw back cockily.

Begrudgingly he shook his head, and inwardly accepted that the pupil had well and truly become the teacher. Sensing the ache in his thigh ease a little, he dropped his leg back onto the wooden floor and flexed it up and down to prevent it from cramping.

"What if Cuddy and I are fundamentally incompatible? We're so different."

"Only on a superficial level," Chase contradicted, absently rubbing the back of his hand over his temple. It was infuriating that two such intelligent people could be so blind to what seemed so obvious to almost everybody else. "Anybody would only have to spend ten minutes with you two together in a room to know that you're both gifted, passionate, stubborn and completely obsessed with each other… I don't think either of you could stay out of each other's lives for good even if you wanted to, so cut the crap and just enjoy the fact you've been given a second chance… And for God's sake talk to her when you have a problem, instead of coming to my apartment!"

Quickly, House's evident thoughtfulness transformed into a cheeky grin.

"You forgot to mention the incredible sex."

"I ate in the last hour."

"What's wrong with Cuddy?" House inquired defensively. "The mother of my child is seriously hot, and funny, and smart. Did I mention hot?"

"It's not Cuddy I have a problem with imagining naked."

Not quite sure how to take the insult, he chose to ignore it. If his girlfriend told him she wasn't interested in the new Head of the Diagnostics department that was good enough for him, no matter how much the thought of him thinking about her without her clothes on rankled. In any case, he'd been the one who planted the seed in Chase's mind. He only had himself to blame.

"You need a Cuddy of your own. Someone whose name you're not going to forget," he eventually asserted, as if it was the most obvious thing on Planet Earth. "Stop fucking around and clean your goddamn apartment once in a while! You might think you're still young, but you're only a couple of years away from being tragic and desperate."

"Thanks for the words of wisdom." Amused by his helpful belligerence, the diagnostician couldn't help but chuckle. This was his version of 'nice'.

"You're welcome." Catching sight of the controllers, he nodded towards the games console under the television in the corner of the room. "Now load up 'Agents of Doom 3' and let me kick your ass!"


	15. Chapter 15

_As ever guys thanks so much for taking the time to read, review, favourite and alert. It's always appreciated. Apologies for churning out the chapters a little slower at the moment. Real life is getting in the way at the moment._

_I am loathe to bring up the whole Green Card marriage thing at all, because I think it was a ridiculous storyline, but as somebody pointed out it is kind of the elephant in the room. It's not a huge plot point, but it did need addressing for things to move forward. _

_Still not my show._

* * *

Stepping through the doors at PPTH had always brought about an almost Pavlovian response in Cuddy's demeanour. Her shoulders went back, she walked taller and her game face graced her features, altogether projecting an impressive aura of professional approachability. Her second day back in charge was no different. Nurses at the desk in the foyer offered a respectful greeting, as did the staff she encountered on her way through the clinic to her office, and giving polite, jovial responses in return, nobody would have known she felt like an emotional wreck.

It wasn't just the odd phone conversation she'd had with House the evening before that had led to a lonely, sleepless night at home, that had bothered her. The truth was she felt like everything running smoothly the day before had been a fluke, a short-lived period of luck that would inevitably come to an end and she'd be revealed to be a fraudster. One who could barely keep herself together, let alone see to the day-to-day running of a hospital. As a teen she'd had _those_ dreams. The ones where she'd turn up to high school only to realise she'd forgotten to get dressed, and was soon circled by a baying mob of her peers, who were only too happy to ridicule her. Underneath that calm exterior that was how she felt now: naked. Not literally, obviously, but that same creeping feeling of vulnerability was enveloping her like a hideous, snarling blanket of self-doubt.

Taking a steeling, deep breath, she pushed open the first set of doors into her office and grinned at her PA as if she didn't have a care in the World.

"What do you have for me today, Maria?"

Dutifully the young woman handed over her mail, and glanced at her laptop screen.

"There's a meeting with the insurance rep at ten, and then another with the Board at two this afternoon."

"Fine. Anything thing else?"

Instantly Maria's face lit up,

"There is one thing…" Bending down to the side of her chair, she plucked a large bouquet of roses off the floor and handed them over, her grin now at almost epic proportions. "They were delivered for you about ten minutes ago."

"By who?" Cuddy quizzed, her nose instinctively taking in the fragrance from the flowers.

"Some guy. He wanted to leave them in your office, but I wouldn't let him."

"Was this guy in his late fifties?"

"I guess," the younger woman nodded. "He walked with a cane, had a beard, blue eyes… Is that House?" Seeing her boss raise an eyebrow, she floundered for a valid reason for her curiosity. "I mean in case he makes impromptu deliveries in the future. I don't want to get fired for annoying your boyfriend."

As the girl giggled nervously in front of her, the Dean of Medicine shook her head in amusement. Unsurprisingly the rumour mill in the hospital was still alive and well.

"Believe me, you won't get fired for annoying my boyfriend." Removing the card attached to the roses, she handed them back to her PA. "Can you find a vase for these for me please, Maria?"

Leaving them in her capable hands, she pushed open the second set of doors and meandered over to her desk, dropping her bag on top, quickly opening the small envelope and straight away recognising the handwriting on the card.

_I know flowers are a cliché, but I thought underwear would be a little presumptuous._

_Happy second day back at work!_

_Your ass loving boyfriend_

_Your loving ass of a boyfriend. X_

Smirking to herself at the gesture as a whole and the typical tone of the card, Cuddy couldn't help but feel a hell of a lot better than she did five minutes ago.

* * *

Triumphantly closing the door behind Marina as she left, House limped back into Cuddy's living room and looked from one puzzled face to the other, as the kids kneeled on the sofa poked their heads over the back.

"What?"

"She's supposed to stay with us until Mom comes back," Rachel answered apprehensively. "She's our responsible adult whilst Mom's at work."

"And I don't count as a responsible adult?"

Instantly Gabe raised his eyebrows and eyed his Father sceptically.

"You've never been on your own with both of us before. Mom'll probably be mad."

"I used to be a doctor!" he shot back in exasperation. "I'm pretty sure I can deal with a nine and a five year old on my own for a little while."

Simultaneously the two children bit their lips in a moment of silent contemplation, and looked away. With such syncopated expressions, had he not known differently, he'd have been convinced they were genetically related. In this instance nurture had trumped nature.

"Were you and Mom arguing yesterday?" the young girl pressed cautiously. "You didn't stay over last night."

More than a little perturbed by her curiosity, House frowned. He couldn't exactly scold her for being nosey when he'd been guilty of prying into other people's relationships in the past, especially as this indirectly affected her, but really it wasn't and shouldn't be any of their concern.

"You don't need to worry. We're ok."

"So you did have an argument?" With his brow furrowing as he looked up at his Dad, it was obvious Gabe wasn't going to give up until he knew the truth.

"Yeah, fine we did… I came here tonight so I could cook dinner before she got back and smooth things over. Instead I'm getting the third degree from Scooby and Scrappy."

Rolling his eyes, he took a step back and folded his arms miserably. In his head he'd had the evening all planned out. He certainly hadn't expected to meet resistance from them.

"Who's Scooby and who's Scrappy?" his son eventually inquired with an amusing level of gravity in his voice, almost as if he was investigating one of the great mysteries of the Universe. "I don't think it's fair for you to call me Scrappy just because I'm smaller than her."

Unable to stop himself, House snorted. As much as Gabe could hold his own with most adults conversationally, it was always reassuring to know that in some ways his thought patterns still matched those of other boys his age.

"It doesn't matter. What does matter is that we've got…" He paused to check his watch. "Forty-five minutes left before your Mom gets back and I haven't started cooking yet, which means I'm probably going to need your help." Not moving a muscle, the siblings regarded him unenthusiastically. Puffing his cheeks out, he knew they'd need an incentive if they were going to be co-operative at all. "Five dollars each?"

"Ten and you have a deal," Rachel haggled, taking the initiative on her brother's behalf.

"Technically you're robbing an old cripple."

"Technically you were expecting two children to work for free," Gabe countered brazenly, his chin falling to his palm as he continued to look over the back of the sofa. "I'm sure that's illegal in most States."

Opening his mouth to refute the claim, quickly House closed it again. It was pointless arguing with them. He was just wasting time. Reluctantly he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his wallet, taking out two tens before replacing it where he found it. Somewhat irritated he held out the bills in their respective directions and scowled.

"I hate both of you."

* * *

For several minutes House didn't realise Cuddy was standing there watching the three of them concentrate on the rolled up towel on the kitchen counter in front of them, squeals of laughter emanating from the two children as he manipulated it into a chicken-like creature and then crowned Gabe with the creation, much to his sister's amusement.

"Nice to see you teaching the kids the life skills they need."

Hearing his girlfriend's voice, he span round quickly, relieved when he saw the sly smirk on her face. Thankfully she looked pleased to see him.

"I didn't hear you come in."

"You were busy." Leisurely she walked towards the three of them, pulling the towel from her son's head and kissing him on the cheek, seconds later hugging and embracing Rachel in the same way.

"What about me?" House quizzed when she pulled herself to her full height again, and stood in front of him. "I cooked dinner."

"We all cooked dinner!" Gabe chirped up indignantly, grasping the tea towel from his Mom's hand and doing his best to recreate what his Father had just shown him. Mostly he was managing to tie it into a knot.

With one eye on her son, Cuddy raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"You got them to help?"

He nodded emphatically, tentatively reaching out and clasping her hands in his. Thankfully she made no attempt to pull away.

"I've always been of the opinion that having children and not making them work is a lot like having a dog and choosing to bark yourself."

"He paid us," Rachel commented, on the verge of a tug of war with her brother over the dish cloth. "Gabe said it was illegal not to."

Watching her boyfriend scrunch his eyes closed in embarrassment, she couldn't help but scoff. He really must have been desperate for help if he'd resorted to bribes. Torn between teasing him and averting World War III between the two siblings, she choose to deal with the more pressing matter first.

"You two!" Instantly they turned to look in their Mom's direction, both of them with one fist still clenched around either end of the cloth. "Put that thing down and go into the living room!"

"But…" they began to protest in unison, stopping the moment they realised their Mom meant business.

"Go!"

Despondently their shoulders sagged as they meandered out of the room in single file, dropping the towel on the counter again on their way out, and leaving the adults alone in the kitchen. Satisfied they were out of earshot, she regarded House again and smiled deviously.

"You paid them?"

"Only because they threatened to beat me up," he cracked. "You should use them during negotiations with the Board. They're like Bonnie and Clyde, but more intimidating."

Still smiling, it suddenly occurred to her that someone was missing.

"Did Marina go home?"

"Nope. I tried to stop them, but she's buried in the garden along with all the other bodies." Seeing her roll her eyes at the joke, House chuckled and pulled her closer, his hands slipping to her waist. "I wanted to do something nice. I was a prick yesterday."

"You snapped because you were in pain," Cuddy countered sadly, her expression softening as she looked at him. "I should have known that was the case… It didn't help that you were dealing with me going back to work either. I'm sorry."

Puzzled by her lucidity, he frowned at her.

"How do you know?"

"Chase came to see me."

"He told you what we talked about?"

"No," she responded, shaking her head. "He just said that you'd turned up at his place late last night. I joined the dots from there… He said that we should talk and he's right."

"Dinner's nearly ready…"

"I mean later." She glanced back at the kids in the living room as they watched TV, before turning back. "When we've got a little time to ourselves."

"Ok," he agreed a little apprehensively. They did have a lot to discuss, he'd come to that conclusion himself, however that didn't mean he wasn't nervous about it. There was still the issue of the ring he'd put back in her drawer that she clearly didn't know about yet. In that sense he was pleased Chase had more or less kept quiet; he needed to broach it on his own terms. "Did you get the flowers, or did your annoying PA keep them for herself?"

"They were beautiful." At regular intervals when she'd been working in her office during the day she'd looked at the roses and grinned inanely to herself like a lovesick teenager. "Now and again I don't mind a cliché."

"But the underwear would have been more fun." Unguardedly he looked her up and down appreciatively. Even after a long day at work she still managed to look mouth-wateringly good.

"For who?"

"Do I ever disappoint?" he inquired pointedly, searching her for an answer.

"Sometimes." Seeing his face fall, she coyly bit her lip. "Just not necessarily in that department... I missed you last night. The bed felt kind of lonely."

"So did Chase's couch."

"He made you sleep on the couch?" she spat back angrily.

"Some of the women he sleeps with might not have high standards with regards to clean bed linen, but I do. There was less chance of me ending up with a bad case of crabs on the couch." Watching her screw up her face in disdain, House laughed. "You still haven't said hi to me properly by the way."

"I had no idea you were one to stand on ceremony," she teased, removing her hand from his back and rubbing away a small patch of flour from his temple.

"I can't help being a traditionalist." Craning his head forward to kiss her on the mouth, at the last second she moved away and pecked him chastely on the cheek. Surprised, he pulled back and observed her with bewilderment. "What was that for?"

"Later," she qualified quietly, gesturing towards the kids behind them. "When we don't have an audience. I can feel their eyes burning into the back of my head."

Looking over her shoulder, he saw Rachel and Gabe nosily evaluating the situation between them and sniggered.

"Go and get changed. I'll serve dinner."

* * *

"I can't decide if this is a really good idea or a really bad one."

"What is?" Cuddy quizzed, opening her eyes in alarm and staring at the tiled bathroom wall, as the warm water and bubbles lapped around them both.

"Taking a bath together when we're about to have one of _those _talks… Neither of us is going to be able to make a dignified exit if this turns into an argument. I struggle to look dignified under normal circumstances, and it'd be impossible for me to stay mad at you if you waddled away naked…"

"I don't waddle!" she protested.

"Maybe this is where we went wrong in the past. We should have had all our conversations in the bath, although I'm not sure how that would have worked logistically… At work it would have been especially hard to figure out."

Concerned by his uncharacteristic babbling, his girlfriend tilted her head back to look at him.

"Ok, now you're worrying me."

Taking a deep breath, House hesitated momentarily before deciding to bite the bullet. He had to get it off his chest, or it would fester and then blow up another day.

"I found your wedding ring yesterday morning. That's the main reason I behaved like a jerk on the phone."

"You were going through my things?"

"I was looking for my wallet," he clarified, loosening the grip of his arms around her soapy torso and resting his palms on either side of the bath, bracing himself for what was to come. "I thought you might have picked it up and put it somewhere safe."

Awkwardly Cuddy fidgeted in the water, her movements displacing the bubbles slightly, as she began to pick at the cuticles on one of her nails;- a sure sign she was uncomfortable.

"I didn't know what to do with it."

"Does it still mean something to you?"

"I guess." She paused hearing him practically hold his breath behind her. "Just not necessarily the same thing it did when I first wore it."

"Meaning?" he pressed. If she was still harbouring feelings for her husband, in spite of her protestations to the contrary, he had a right to know. It didn't matter if the guy was no longer in the Land of the Living. In some ways that made him harder to compete with: Jonathan no longer had the capacity to fuck up like he did.

"Meaning now it's just a reminder of another relationship I screwed up."

"Then why keep it in the drawer next to your bed?"

"It's an expensive piece of jewellery. I wanted to keep an eye on it… This really bothers you." Still straining to look back at him she saw him shrug, but it was pretty clear to her that the apparent indifference was just an act. "Do you want me to get rid of it?"

"That's not my call."

"I want you to be honest with me. If this is upsetting you I want to know."

Anxiously she reached out and firmly planted her palm over the top of his clenched hand.

"I get jealous. You of all people know that…" Nervously he tried to hide his unease with an affected cough. It was his jealousy that had driven her away from Princeton, and landed him in jail. "I'm not proud of it, but if you want to know if I'd rather it wasn't sitting in a drawer next to the place we sleep together most nights then the answer is a resounding yes… I can't force you to let go of it though. Not if you're not ready."

"I'm ready," she said assuredly. "I'll sell it and put the money in the college fund for the kids."

"You don't have to rush into a decision."

"I'm with you now." As she said the words her blue eyes seemed to light up with the sincerity of what she was saying, her fingers wrapping more tightly around his. "Nobody else."

Reassured, the carbon dioxide escaped from his lungs like air leaving a balloon, as his mind duelled with two contrary ideas. Did he leave things be? Or should he really get everything off his chest? After moments of confused silence he decided to plump for the latter.

"Seen as we're talking about failed marriages there's something I should tell you. Before somebody you work with does."

Looking down at her, he watched her brow slowly knit together.

"And again I'm worried."

"There's no reason for you to be," he started cautiously. "I just don't want this to come back and bite me on the ass like it did with Jane." Once bitten, twice shy.

"This is about Dominika."

Gravely House nodded his head. He knew how hard it must be for her to even utter her name considering the circumstances of their introduction, so he had to treat this like pulling a band-aid off: get it over quickly and face the pain afterwards.

"We had to live together for a while to get the authorities to take her Green Card application seriously."

"And?" Cuddy gulped. She had an idea where this was going, and she knew she wasn't going to like it. He wasn't the only one with the propensity to be jealous.

"Something nearly happened between us."

"I always assumed her sleeping with you was part of the arrangement." She was actually relieved the word 'nearly' featured in his confession.

"It was meant to be, but I didn't want complications. I married her to hurt you, but I couldn't… It still felt wrong."

"What changed?"

"You were gone," he answered feebly. He didn't want her to think it was a case of out of sight, out of mind, because that wasn't it at all, but that had been how he'd justified his actions to himself, even if it was weak reasoning. "She seemed to enjoy spending time with me, and the pathetic loser that I am got a buzz out of that… I tried to stop her from going by throwing away her acceptance letter."

"So you wanted her to stay?"

Treading carefully he continued his explanation, still unsure if he'd taken the right of action as she regarded him, poker-faced.

"I was flattered that she liked me. I wanted her to stick around and massage my bruised ego... I wanted not to be lonely anymore, but it was a stupid way of going about it." Shaking his head at his own idiocy back then, he mentally winced at the expression on her face when he'd forced her to witness him marrying another woman. Even if she'd done her best to stay composed, deep down he knew it was hurting her. That stab of pain he saw in her when she was forced to leave the room after the makeshift service signalled that she still loved him, but he'd wanted her to feel the excruciating agony that he was going through after she'd dumped him. He'd twisted the knife on purpose, and that act of sadism, now in his sober state, made him feel truly ashamed. "I'm telling you because I want us to have a clean slate. I want us to last this time."

"I want that too," she said quietly, gnawing on her bottom lip to hold back her emotions. The whole thing had wounded her badly. He knew marriage was something she'd somewhat idealistically wanted and that he'd deliberately used that knowledge to taunt her for leaving him, but his current need to unburden himself, to share something without being asked to do so that once he would have unquestionably kept from her, felt like a huge turning point for them. Unlike during their previous attempt to make it work, he was beginning to open up, to make himself fully present in the relationship. She had to let him know she was fully invested too.

"I was so miserable last night." Possessively he re-wrapped his free arm around her, and let his chin rest on the top of her forehead delicately.

"So was I," she retorted honestly. "It got me thinking."

"Always dangerous."

Disregarding the joke, Cuddy went on before she changed her mind and chickened out.

"I want you to have the spare key. Maybe you can bring some of your stuff over and I'll make some room for them… If this works out for both of us, we can think about you moving in in a few months… If that's what you want?"

"Wow! This is almost starting to sound like a grown up relationship."

"I know sometimes you need your space. We both do, but I liked coming home and finding you with the kids tonight." She smirked to herself at the recent memory. They were starting to feel like a proper family, something she'd craved for, for as long as she could remember. "You all looked so happy. It made me happy… I want you to feel like you can do that whenever you want."

Taking the offer in, House felt a huge grin upturn the corners of his mouth.

"I'd like that a lot."

"Then it's settled!" she replied chirpily, allowing herself to sink lower under the water as she closed her eyes again.

"And all without us having an argument that leads to one of us waddling to the bedroom to sulk."

"Maybe your bath theory holds water," she cracked, chuckling when she heard him groan.

"If this relationship is going to work, you're going to have to stop making jokes like that."

"Oh shut up!" she laughed good-naturedly, bringing his hand to her mouth and planting an affectionate kiss on his knuckles.

Allowing himself to relax, House's head flopped backwards and rested against the tiles behind him as he luxuriated in the heavenly warmth of the water and her body against his, all the while his thumb subconsciously nudging the bare base of her ring finger beneath the suds.


	16. Chapter 16

_Big thanks to everybody who read, reviewed, favourited and alerted the last chapter. Still a few chapters to go, but I think we're heading into the home stretch!_

_For those asking, I haven't forgotten about Blythe. She'll pop up, ninja-style, in the not too distant future._

_I can't say I'm responsible for what happened to them on the show._

* * *

As much as the kids were in their element with the bright lights and music, House knew Cuddy felt like a fish out of water amongst the throngs of people. Initially she'd refused to go along with them to the funfair, citing an extensive workload as her excuse, but the three of them had nagged and nagged until she finally relented. Now she was walking along with them and eyeing those around them who appeared to be enjoying themselves like they were clinically insane. As Rachel and Gabe meandered little more than a foot in front of them taking everything in, House saw the tense look on her face and rolled his eyes.

"You know if you relaxed a little, you might actually enjoy yourself," House whispered into her ear just loud enough for her to hear over the din around them, as his free arm slung around her waist. "You could at least have come on the Ferris wheel with us."

"I don't like heights."

"Oh come on! If I'd put my hand in the air, I could have practically reached the top. We couldn't go on the big one because Gabe is too small."

"This just isn't my thing," she sighed unhappily, glowering at a teenager who wasn't looking where he was going and narrowly missed bumping into them. "I should have stayed at home, got on with my paperwork and left you three to it."

"You would have trusted me to bring them back in one piece?" There was a hint of humour in the way he asked the question, but mostly he was genuinely curious. They'd been dating for nearly four months now, and whilst everything was going really well, there was a big difference between being left with them at home in the interim before she got back from work, or whilst she went shopping for groceries.

In response, she nodded.

"Why wouldn't I?... I know how attached you are to your balls."

Provocatively Cuddy raised an eyebrow, watching his Adam's apple bob up and down as he gulped.

"Good point, well made!"

In front of them, Gabe spied a stall and enthusiastically span around.

"Mom! Can we have some more cotton candy?"

Straight away Cuddy shook her head.

"No. You've already had enough."

"Why?" Rachel queried petulantly.

"Because you get sick if you have too much sugar and your brother will refuse to go to bed for the next week."

"But Mom!" House chimed in, sticking out his bottom lip and fluttering his eyelashes at her. Annoyed, she jammed her tongue into her cheek and shook her he

"So you're going to clean up the vomit, and be the one who sits up with Gabe whilst he runs up the walls?"

Moving his gaze from her and sucking his lip back in, he regarded the children apologetically.

"Sorry guys, the Fun Police is on patrol!"

As the two siblings snickered along with him, Cuddy looked on despairingly. It was bad enough that she didn't want to be there, but now she was being ganged up on too.

"You know what? It's pretty obvious you all want me here about as much as I want to be here, so I'll call a cab and go home." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the car keys and dangled them in front of him. "Fill them up with junk food, let them go on whatever they want and then bring them back to me when they start puking everywhere."

Taken aback by her request, for a second or two House just stood there, looking on dumbly as she dropped the keys into his hand and began to walk away. Eventually coming to his senses, his arm shot out to grab her arm and pull her back, forcing her retrace her steps backwards before facing him again.

"If you're going then we all are."

"That's not fair!" Gabe protested, folding his arms across his chest as his similarly perturbed sister glared up at the two adults as well.

"It's not a family day out if your Mom's not here."

Cuddy squared her jaw.

"So now you're resorting to emotional blackmail?"

"You've worked through the last two weekends because the idiots who work for you are too stupid to deal with a minor problem. Is it really too much to ask that you spend some quality time with your kids and your boyfriend?"

Embarrassed that she'd lost her temper so easily, she put her hands in her pocket and looked down, toeing the blades of grass beneath her feet with her boot as daylight turned to dusk.

"I know you meant well."

"Just another half an hour?" he said softly, touching her arm through her jacket and observing her expectantly. "That way the kids can go on the bumper cars and I've still got time to keep my role as Alpha Male by winning my lady an obscenely large soft toy."

Unable to stop herself from smiling at the proposal, Cuddy nodded. Their respective ideas of a good time didn't always crossover, but it was hard to turn him down when he was just trying to give the kids a nice day out.

"Ok. Half an hour."

Within minutes the kids were strapped into the car and squabbling over who was going to take the wheel, the adults observing them from the side. Eventually the siren sounded and they were off to a mixed start, almost immediately being smashed into from behind by a solitary girl, who then proceeded to career around as if her life depended on it. In spite of the jolt, both of them were screaming with laughter as they jointly navigated around the space.

"I'm glad they're enjoying themselves," Cuddy said honestly, smiling as she watched her son throw his head back and let out a huge belly laugh when they crashed into another couple of kids who were having difficulty reversing out of a corner. "It was a nice idea."

"But you still hate being here with every fibre of your being."

"It's just not my thing." Nudging him with her elbow playfully, she smirked at the glint in his eye. "That doesn't mean I don't appreciate the thought."

"When I was a kid I used to spend a ton of time at these things on my own," House offered thoughtfully, looking around him and taking in the familiar sights, sounds and smells. "It didn't matter where we moved to, nine times out of ten there was always at least one crappy fair whilst we were there."

"My Mom always used to take Julia whenever there was one in town… Mostly I just stayed at home with my Dad and read to him… He couldn't stand the noise."

"And yet he married your Mother?" he cracked, soliciting a snort from her.

"I love her, but sometimes even I wonder what the hell he ever saw in her… She was never an easy women woman to please, and believe me he tried…" She paused and frowned to herself. With the benefit of hindsight her Mom and Dad seemed like such an odd, incompatible pairing. He was quiet, gentle and kept himself to himself, whereas she was bold, relatively adventurous and never afraid to express her opinion to anybody who'd listen. Now she was certain all the love in that relationship had come from her Father, her Mother returning it with mild affection for the man who provided for her and their daughters. In that moment Cuddy felt lucky: the push, the pull, the love- it was mutual for her and House and that was a rare thing. "It always seemed a little like he was sucked into her gravitational pull."

"I know Arlene has a big ass too, but that's just cruel!" Deviously he licked his lips, and watched his girlfriend's eyebrows creep up her forehead.

"So you've been perving on my Mom too? Should I be worried?"

"Absolutely!" he shot back without missing a beat. "I always find the best way to get to the Mother is to impregnate the daughter first."

Narrowing her eyes and cocking her head to the side accusatorily, Cuddy was about to respond when her daughter got off the ride and ran towards them.

"That was awesome!"

"Are you sure you don't have whiplash?" House asked jokily, making the nine year old regard him with a look of confusion.

"I don't think so."

Perplexed as she looked past her daughter, her Mom realised someone was missing.

"Where's Gabe?"

"He's…" Spinning around to look back where she came from, Rachel quickly turned back and looked at them both blankly. "I don't know."

Immediately blind panic set in for Cuddy, her eyes beginning to scan through all the people still scrambling to get in and out of the bumper cars in, but to no avail. Reasoning that he might have just forgotten where they were stood, she took a step back and looked around them, quickly resorting to looking down the long, makeshift path that divided one side of stalls from the other, but the steady stream of people as well as the fading daylight made it impossible to see properly.

"I can't see him, House!" Frantically she regarded him again, and saw the worry begin to flash across his features too. "Why can't I see him?"

"He's probably just wandered off," he tried to explain, instantly regretting the casualness of his tone.

"He's five years old!" Surprised by the screech in her Mom's response, Rachel started. "Somebody's taken him."

"He's been gone for two minutes."

"That's all it takes… I shouldn't have taken my eye off him." Anxiously her gaze darted from one person to another, suspiciously analysing them in case they'd had anything to do with her son's disappearance. "I need to go and look for him."

About to depart on her own, House placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her back around.

"I'll go."

"But…"

"But nothing," he interrupted firmly. "You should stay here with Rachel in case he turns up here again… I'll find him."

Silently she agreed, and wrapped her arms around her daughter's shoulders protectively as he set off down the pathway as swiftly as he could manage. Logic told him that he'd probably just walked away from his sister, either on purpose or simply because he'd gotten disorientated, but that didn't mean he wasn't worried too. Children were taken from places like this. They could be taken from anywhere. Sick assholes saw them and then… Feeling his fist clench, he shook the thought from his mind. _He had to find him. _If he didn't Cuddy would never forgive him for bringing them there, and he'd probably never forgive himself either.

For another five minutes he lumbered through the crowds, intermittently calling out his son's name as the fear began to creep up on him. Then he saw something, or rather someone; a dark-haired boy, little more than three foot tall standing in line at the cotton candy stall twenty feet away from him. Both relieved and angry, he marched towards him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I…" Gabe responded sheepishly.

"We told you no!" Reflexively House reached out abruptly, and saw the little boy flinch as his hand jerked forward, almost as if he'd expected to be hit. Mortified by his son's reaction, he was fleetingly at a loss for words. "I'm angry that you ran away, but I wouldn't…" Pausing for a second he couldn't even bring himself to say the word out loud, instead resorting to holding out his hand again in the most non-intimidatory manner he could muster. "We need to go back. Your Mom's worried."

Tentatively taking his Father's hand after a brief crisis of confidence, Gabe walked along with him, the pair of them wordlessly mulling over what had just happened when they simultaneously noticed a small circle of people around the place he and Cuddy had watched the kids go round in the bumper car. How he knew it was her, he had no clue, but a freakishly accurate sixth sense told him exactly what had happened long before he pushed his way through the crowd, and immediately saw tears streaking down Rachel's cheeks as she knelt by her Mom, who was sat on the ground fighting to get her breath.

"I don't know what's wrong with her," the girl sobbed, her horrified expression imploring him to help.

Letting go of Gabe's hand, he awkwardly crouched down on the ground next to them and regarded her reassuringly.

"She'll be ok. I'm here now." Turning his attention to his girlfriend, he gripped her hand tightly to reinforce the fact he was there, and looked her in the eye. "No pain in your arm?" Still gasping for air, she shook her head vehemently. "It feels like another attack?" he asked calmly, not reacting as her nails dug fretfully into his palm. She nodded.

Without further instruction he delved into her bag and pulled out a strip of Xanax, popping out one pill and placing it in her shaky hand, before handing her the bottle of water she carried around with her. As she took the tablet, once again he became conscious of the small group of onlookers who were still gawping at the scene in front of them.

"She's fine. Now get lost!" he requested forcefully, the plea immediately dispersing most of them except for one woman and what appeared to be her son

"You're sure you know what you're doing?" she asked officiously. "She looks like she's having a heart attack."

Irately biting his lip, whilst his fingers soothingly hovered over Cuddy's cheek, he tried to compose himself and not fly off the handle.

"Are you a doctor?"

The bleach-blonde, middle-aged woman shook her head blankly, obviously surprised by the question.

"No."

"Well I am, so shut the hell up and give us some space!" Unimpressed she dragged her son away, muttering something under her breath, as House once more focused all his energy on his girlfriend. With her erratic breathing beginning to slow down to normal, he continued to stroke her face. "Gabe's here. He's ok."

Looking from Rachel's damp face to Gabe's expression of utter bewilderment as he stood at her feet, tears welled in Cuddy's eyes.

"I… scared them," she stuttered, worriedly looking back at House.

"It's nothing they can't deal with."

"But…"

"Just concentrate on breathing for now… I'll drive us home when you feel strong enough to stand." Manoeuvring himself so he was sat next to her, he slung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her head towards him, planting a comforting kiss on her forehead, before quickly checking that the two children were alright.

Rachel was now delicately caressing the back of her Mom's other hand, but she'd stopped crying and all in all seemed like she was calming down. His son, on the other hand, looked like he could barely process what was going on. Still stood at Cuddy's feet, perhaps on some kind of self-imposed sentry duty, he cut an aloof, lonely figure.

* * *

House had no idea how long he'd been stood over the bathroom sink, both hands gripping the porcelain whilst he was lost in his thoughts, when a pair of arms circled around his waist and he felt the pressure of a warm body against his back.

"I've watched you standing here for the last five minutes," Cuddy said warmly, affectionately planting a kiss between his shoulder blades through the fabric of his t-shirt.

"I thought you were still asleep."

"Unless I'm sleepwalking and this is a dream, I'm very much awake… What's up?"

"Nothing," he answered evasively, his response one of the least convincing lies his girlfriend had ever heard leave his lips. He wanted to talk, she could sense that, but he was clearly going to need some coaxing.

"I know you're lying. Spill!" Encouragingly she got on her tiptoes and peeked over his shoulder into the cabinet mirror, smirking at his reflection and teasing a reluctant smile from him.

"It's not important. You need to rest. Go back to sleep." When they'd finally gotten home he'd ushered Cuddy to bed to shake off the shock and the effects of her pill, whilst he'd dealt with the children. She'd been dead to the World all evening.

"The more you say it's not important, the more I know it is."

Taking a deep breath, House unhooked her arms from around him and turned to face her, his once more troubled features making her worry even more. After a moment's hesitation he eventually summoned up the courage to speak.

"Gabe thought I was going to hit him."

"What?!" she spat back, genuinely shocked by the revelation. "When?"

"When I found him at the stall." Leaning back against the sink, he closed his eyes briefly and fleetingly saw the little boy's frightened face again, as a mild nausea flipped his stomach. It was like he'd travelled back in time fifty years, except he was the one menacingly towering over the frightened child this time. He knew the fear he'd seen on his son's face in that split second, and it was killing him that he'd been the cause of it. "I shouted at him, raised my hand and he flinched."

"You raised your hand?"

"For him to take!" he explained in exasperation. "Jesus! Even you're not convinced I wouldn't beat my own kid."

Sensing his inner turmoil, Cuddy placed a hand on his chest and sighed.

"I didn't say that. I just wanted clarification."

"I thought I was getting somewhere with him." There was forlornness in his voice that made her heart ache for him. He'd been trying so hard to be the kind of father figure he thought her son and daughter needed, and she'd seen their rapport grow right in front of her. In his mind, this was no doubt a huge setback.

"You are! He and Rachel love having you around."

"And yet, subconsciously at least, he still can't get over the fact that I was a violent jerk in the past."

"Even if that were true…"

"What other explanation is there?" House interrupted abruptly, his lip curling into a cynical snarl.

"Even if that were true," his girlfriend repeated. "Which I'm sure it's not, how you were today with me when I had my attack, with all of us, just doesn't tally with any idea he may or may not be clinging onto that you're capable of hurting him… Maybe he reacted the way he did simply because he's not used to being told off by you… You spoil the kids. I'm usually the one who has to play bad cop."

"That's because you're better at it than me."

A little irritated, Cuddy pulled her hand away from him and crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

"You're his Dad, not his friend, House… I'm not saying those two things are mutually exclusive, but Gabe needs boundaries, and it's just as much your responsibility to set them as it is mine… I hate constantly feeling like the bad guy because I won't let them stay up an extra half hour on a school night, or let them eat too many cookies. I need someone to back me up on things like that, as trivial as they sound."

In response he shook his head in puzzlement.

"I have no idea how to be a good parent."

"Neither do I!" she laughed unexpectedly, soliciting a frown from her boyfriend. "My Mom was hardly the perfect model for parenting, but the more I do this, the more I realise nobody quite knows what they're doing… You just muddle through the best way you can."

Glancing down at the cold, tiled floor beneath his bare feet, House tried to process what she was saying. That there was no magic formula for bringing up well-adjusted children didn't exactly fill him with confidence.

"I heard him crying in his room after he went to bed… What if I did that?"

"It's more likely he blames himself for what happened to me. I'm going to have to talk to him tomorrow." Noting he was still struggling with what had happened, Cuddy re-established contact by gently brushing her fingertips over his forehead. "You were really great earlier. That's the worst one I've had in a long time… It made a huge difference that you were there."

"I was hardly going to leave you in a heap on the ground."

"You were my hero!" Mischievously she grinned at him, and let her thumb and forefinger settle under his chin, forcing him to make eye contact.

"Yeah," he countered sarcastically. "If you looked closely you could see my cape." Quickly his expression softened. "You really should go back to sleep."

"I'm not tired right now."

House shrugged.

"We could watch TV. I'm not that tired either."

"Or…"

"Or?" he quizzed.

"Or I could think of an inventive way to say thank you for being my knight in shining armour." Without moving her eyes from his, torturously slowly she slid her palm over his chest, down his stomach, before sneaking fingers under the elastic of his pyjama pants and delicately wrapping her fingers around his cock. Gleefully she watched him gulp as the blood rushed away from his brain, and he temporarily tried to maintain his composure long enough to come up with a snappy comeback.

"I'm guessing you're not thinking of using glitter and dried pasta to make me a card."

Chuckling at the joke, Cuddy dropped to her knees and pulled his pants down over his hips, letting them pool at his feet before re-concentrating her attention on dancing her fingertips along the evidence of his arousal.

"That's not really my style."

As her warm mouth wrapped around him, the back of his head thudded against the mirror behind him and he let out a contented groan, his hand twisting softly through her curly hair as he melted into his own personal Heaven.


	17. Chapter 17

_Thanks guys for coming back for more and for the reviews, favourites etc. It's always much appreciated! :)_

_I'm so, so sorry this has taken such a long time to churn out. It's been a bit difficult juggling things in real life recently._

_The little dude is still mine. The others are on loan._

* * *

Frantically pushing curtains aside on various hospital cubicles in the Emergency Department and disturbing patients with various ailments, finally House pulled back one last section of blue fabric and saw his son sat cross-legged on the bed, his hand holding a something to his head, as a bored looking woman in her mid-thirties stood next to him.

"Who are you?" she quizzed, surprised by the sudden presence of an agitated man in his fifties.

"I'm his Dad. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Karen Reece." Nervously she offered her hand out for him to shake, but the gesture was ignored as he turned to Gabe and surveyed the dried blood streaking his face and clothes. "I'm the school nurse."

"What happened to him?" Still taking no notice of her, House carefully lifted the wad of dressings and offered an apology when the five year old winced. It wasn't a huge cut, but the depth of the wound was going to warrant a few stitches at least.

"I'm not sure. They just brought him to me and I knew I'd have to bring him here."

"Then you're of absolutely no use to me," he answered abruptly. Stunned by his curtness she appeared glued to the spot. "Go and put your band aids in size order or whatever it is you do. I'm more than capable of taking it from here."

Somewhat thankful that she was being relieved of her responsibilities, the nurse grabbed her purse from the chair and scuttled hurriedly out into the corridor, in case he changed his mind. Now that they were alone, House pulled himself up onto the available space on the bed and swung his legs out in front of him, laying his cane down on the sheet next to him.

"Where's my Mom?" Gabe asked quietly, his shoulders slumped as he stared at a spot on his Father's jacket.

"She's on her way back from a meeting out of town. She'll be here soon." Rather pathetically the child nodded his head, and the pair of them sat in a charged silence for a moment or two, before the older man forced himself to ask the obvious question. "What happened, buddy?"

Forlornly Gabe let his gaze fall to his sneakers as his fingers toyed with the laces.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"The teacher who called said you were in a fight…"

Still playing with his laces, the little boy's lip began to wobble.

"I said I don't want to talk about it now."

Sensing his son would get more distressed if he continued the interrogation, he decided to focus on the more pressing issue of his injury.

"I'm going to find someone to stitch you up."

"The lady said we'd have to wait a little while because they're busy."

Sniggering, his Dad got up off the bed and regarded his son with a grin.

"Who runs this hospital?"

"Mom does," Gabe retorted with a frown.

"Exactly! And if whoever I want doesn't come to treat you in the next few minutes, then she'll start firing people at will when she gets back."

With his brow still knitted together, he looked at his Dad thoughtfully.

"But that means that all the other people who came in before me will have to wait."

House shrugged.

"There's perks to being the boss lady's kid. Might as well make use of them."

* * *

"Any one of the nurses could have done this," Chase protested, pushing the needle through one side of the cut through to the other, as Gabe gripped his Dad's hand tightly and House scrutinized his former protégé's every move.

"Why would I get one of those clumsy idiots to do it when I can get someone with a steady hand and surgical experience?"

In spite of himself, a smirk ghosted across the younger man's lips.

"Careful House, that almost sounded like a compliment."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we, Princess Anzac?" Simultaneously amused and disarmed by his Dad's sarcasm towards someone who was ostensibly an authority figure, the little boy giggled and forced Chase to still his hand momentarily. Briefly looking over his shoulder at House, he rolled his eyes and then continued when he'd stopped moving. "Cuddy's going to go insane as it is. I'd rather she wasn't upset over the state of his stitches too. I want his scar to be as small and neat as possible."

"I'm going to have a scar?" Gabe chirped up worriedly.

"Afraid so, kiddo." Ruffling his hair a little as Chase finished up, House smiled reassuringly. "Girls will love it when you're older. They totally dig the whole ruggedly handsome thing."

Unimpressed, the little guy scrunched his nose up.

"I don't like girls. They're annoying."

Taking a step back to admire his handiwork, Chase dropped the needle in the tray and decided to chime in.

"They're always going to be annoying, but one day you're going to really like them… In fact in a few years they're probably going to be the only thing you think about…" Happily removing his gloves and dropping them in the tray too, it wasn't until he lifted his head again that he saw the Father and son openly regarding him bemusedly. "What?"

"If you want to do the whole fatherly advice thing, you should get a kid of your own," House said jokily. "I'd recommend getting a woman of your own first though. Randomly snatching children off the streets isn't going to go down well with the authorities."

"And who says I haven't got a woman?" Defiantly the blonde Australian folded his arms across his chest.

"Blow up dolls don't count, Skippy."

"Why would he have a blow up doll?" Gabe asked, entirely confused by the mental image that had been conjured up in his mind.

"Never mind," his Dad answered swiftly, determined to continue his line of questioning. "So who is she? Assuming she's real."

Shaking his head, Chase laughed.

"Why would I be stupid enough to tell you that?"

"Is it the other doctor I saw you trying to make laugh when I came in?" a little voice asked, determined not to be left out of the conversation.

Immediately the man who'd been treating him turned an impressive shade of crimson, his embarrassment made all the more acute by the fact he'd been found out so easily by a five year old. He'd been scouting for a new case in the Emergency department and had bumped into Laura briefly, his usual refined charm replaced by a boyish nervousness that had made him crack lame jokes like a teenager with a crush on a girl at school. The truth was he really liked her. Not only was the blonde thirty-five year old exceptionally pretty and smart, she was also aware of his reputation. After two weeks of skirting around the issue, he'd finally gotten her to agree to go on a second date with him earlier.

Seeing his reticence to answer, it quickly became obvious to House that his son had unwittingly hit the nail on the head, and there was no way he was going to pass up on the opportunity to gloat.

"Have you learnt nothing about dating the people you work with?"

"I don't work with her… Not directly anyway."

"I guess I should probably tell Cuddy to put CCTV in the Janitor's closet, in case…"

"We're just dating, House," he sighed, disappointed with himself that he hadn't just kept quiet.

"So you actually like her then?"

"Yeah, I actually like her… You got a problem with that?"

"Nope… It's about time you got back in the saddle, without actually being in the saddle."

"Do you think we can check that your son doesn't have concussion now?" the younger man inquired flippantly, irked but not surprised that his private life was being put under the microscope.

"Already checked. He has a slight headache, but there's no nausea or dizziness. There's no problem with his memory either… If there's any change I'll be with him anyway."

"Does that mean I can go and do my proper job now?"

"I suppose," House shrugged.

Relieved, Chase offered his goodbyes and exited the cubicle, leaving him observing his little boy with a speculative smirk.

"You feeling up to raiding the sucker jar in the clinic?"

Instantly Gabe's face lit up.

* * *

"Soooo…" House said a little awkwardly, hunkering down on the sofa in Cuddy's office next to his son, as they both picked at the sandwiches he'd got his girlfriend's PA to get from the cafeteria.

Picking the limp lettuce out from between the two slices of bread and throwing it back in the box, Gabe knew what was coming.

"You're going to ask me what happened again." Nervously he took a bite of his lunch and looked at his Father from the corner of his eye, catching a glimpse of his palpable uneasiness mixed with parental concern.

"I can ask, but I can't make you tell me anything… Your Mom, on the other hand, has methods of torture that could make the most hardened spy talk… She won't be happy that you were fighting." Glancing down again at the small figure next to him, House saw Gabe's leg begin to kick up and down agitatedly in a physical release of pent up frustration, and it pained him to see it. Something was wrong, something had happened and the thought of his son being in such distress tied knots in his stomach. "I used to get into fights all the time when I was a bit older than you."

"Why?" the five year old quizzed in between mouthfuls of bread and cheese.

Thoughtfully, House turned and looked out of the window on the adjacent side of the room, his mind going back to his own less than perfect childhood.

"I was an Army brat… My Dad was a Marine, so we were moved around a lot. I never got the chance to make proper friends at school because of it… I was always the skinny, loner kid with the smart mouth, who never knew when to keep it shut… Kind of made me a walking target for the class knuckleheads wherever we ended up."

"Did they hurt you?"

Gravely, his Father nodded.

"Sometimes… If my Dad was home he used to tell me I had to toughen up. That I had to stop crying like a girl if someone punched or kicked me, even if they were bigger than me, because that meant they could see my weaknesses and they'd do it all the more."

"But I don't like fighting," Gabe whispered shakily, visibly panicked by the implication of what he'd been told, as tears began to form in the corners of his eyes.

"I'm glad you don't," House answered honestly, swallowing a lump in his throat. "My Dad was wrong… He should have told me that they had no right to lay a finger on me. That I was right to feel upset that somebody could hurt me for no other reason than the fact I didn't fit in to everybody else's cliques." Pausing to watch a tear fall down the boy's cheek, gently he reached out and wiped the dampness away with his thumb. "Whatever happened I'm not going to be angry with you. You're Mom won't be either… We just need to know what's been going on at school so we know how to help."

Miserably, Gabe sniffed and dropped the remainder of his sandwich back in the box.

"You'll think I'm stupid."

"After all the stunts I've pulled in my life? I doubt it, kiddo."

With his resistance evaporating, the little boy wriggled in his seat and then tentatively laid his head against House's arm. From the outside looking in, such a simple gesture of trust between a Father and son wouldn't have seemed like a big deal to most other people, but for them it felt like a hugely significant moment. Usually this kind of peeling back of his defences was reserved for Cuddy and perhaps occasionally his sister on the odd occasions he was unwell or had hurt himself. That he was really starting to let him in was both seemed like a great, if frightening, privilege to House.

"There's this boy in my class…"

"Yeah?" his Dad coaxed gently. The key to this was letting him tell him in his own time.

"He kept on being mean to this girl called Jessica because she has to live with her Grandparents… Her Dad died and her Mom couldn't cope… Michael lives in the same neighbourhood as her and he started pushing around at recess, so I told our teacher."

"And what happened?"

"He got into trouble, but he found out I was the one who told and then he told his older brother."

Feeling his anger bubbling silently inside as his son spoke, House tossed his own half eaten sandwich onto the coffee table and draped his arm protectively around the boy's shoulder.

"How old is this kid's brother?"

"Ten I think, but he looks bigger," Gabe answered, reliving the fear of the much bigger boy looming over him as his lip began to wobble. "He used to trip me up and steal my lunch all the time. It wasn't fair! I didn't do anything to him, and I just got so angry when he teased me today that I hit him."

Resisting the urge to tell him he was pleased he'd retaliated, because part of him undoubtedly was, House sought instead to clarify the details further.

"How did you hurt your head?"

"I think I winded him a little… He was bent over for a few seconds, but then he stood up again and pushed me into a wall outside… When he saw my head was bleeding he ran away."

"How long was this going on for?" House inquired, ashamed that he hadn't put two and two together the night he'd seen the bruise on his knee, and inwardly seething that his son had been subjected to such cowardly behaviour from someone twice his age; all because he couldn't stand by and watch someone else being bullied for something that was entirely out of their control.

"I told on Michael the day after I started there."

Sighing loudly the older man felt the guilt pressing on him like a huge boulder. It was little wonder Gabe hadn't taken to him at all initiallyl. At school and at home, everything was so up in the air that it was hardly surprising he'd acted up when someone he'd always been led to believe was a violent bully had rocked up at his safe haven, and hooked up with his Mom. It must have seemed like he was under siege from all angles, and boy did he know what that was like!

"I wish you'd told us."

"He said it'd get worse if I did." Suddenly sitting bolt upright, he turned and regarded his Dad pleadingly. "If you tell my school he'll come looking for me. He used to say he'd hurt Rachel too."

"He's not coming near you ever again…"

"But…"

"But nothing!" House countered emphatically, instinctively pulling the boy onto his lap and letting his head rest against his chest. "I promise I won't let him touch you or Rachel… By the time your Mom's finished with his parents, I doubt they'll want to stay in New Jersey anyway."

Apparently mulling over what his Father had told him, Gabe looked around his Mom's office and bit his lip apprehensively.

"Michael said I was a freak, because I find everything we do in class really easy… He said I'm not normal. Is that true?"

Carefully avoiding his stitches, House lightly ran his fingers through his son's hair, randomly marvelling at the dark strands that he'd inherited from his Mother, and giving himself time to think of a suitable way to answer.

"He called you a freak because he's jealous. You're capable of things that he never will be… As for the normal thing, who would want to be that? Normal people have boring lives with boring jobs and boring relationships. They are boring… So what if you are a little different from the kids your age? You should never be ashamed of that. It makes you stand out to the people that really matter… One day you'll be pleased you do."

"Did you stand out to my Mom?"

In response House found himself grinning, a vivid image of the beautiful young woman he'd met in the bookstore all those year ago coming back to him and fuelling his amusement all the more.

"That was pretty much mutual." Catching sight of the woman in question pushing open the first set of doors, he chuckled. "And speak of the Devil…"

Almost immediately she burst into the room, her entire face creased with concern as she stalked over to where they were sat and crouched down in front of them, her hand automatically caressing her son's cheek as she surveyed the damage to his forehead.

"Are you ok, baby?"

"How many times, Mom?! I'm not a baby!"

"You can call me baby if you want," House butted in jokily, smirking at the exasperated look his girlfriend shot him as a result. "You were taking so long we thought you'd been kidnapped by Somalian car pirates. We were going to offer nine dollars as your ransom."

Hauling herself onto the sofa next to them, Cuddy wearily pushed her hand through her curls.

"The traffic was crazy. I'm sorry I had to call you, but you were much closer than I was."

"It's fine."

"You were ok getting time off work?"

"Not exactly, but that's something we can discuss later," House said breezily, making her brow furrow at his cryptic retort. "My priority was getting to the hospital."

Reading between the lines in light of his previous track record, it wasn't too much of a leap to assume he was newly unemployed. Not one to let up, she persisted.

"Your boss fired you because you wanted a few hours off to take care of your son?"

"No, my boss fired me because of what I told him to do with himself when he wouldn't give me a few hours off to take care of my son." Seeing her face drop, he sought to reassure her. "It doesn't matter. He was itching to get rid of me anyway… What does matter is that he's ok."

"No signs of concussion?" she queried, examining her son's general demeanour for signs.

House shook his head.

"I mean he's a little weird, but that's how he usually is, right?" Smiling broadly down at the boy to confirm he was only joshing, Gabe shot a similar expression right back, leaving Cuddy feeling a little out of the loop.

"Seen as you two have a private joke going on there, is anybody going to fill me in on what actually happened?"

Instantly House felt the five year old stiffen up in his arms, and he knew he wasn't ready to go through it all again so soon. That could come later when he'd settled down a little, and from there they could figure out what to do, whether it meant pulling him out of that school or whatever. There was also going to be an 'interesting' conversation coming when they discussed what the hell he was going to do now that he no longer had a job. The implications of that alone would be far-reaching, but he didn't want to think about any of that now.

"We will. Just not right now… Right now, we're wondering what kind of evil Dean of Medicine lets the supply of cherry suckers run out in the clinic?"

"If I'd anticipated all of this I'd have strewn them all over the floor like rose petals," she jibed sarcastically, making him bite his lip to stifle a chuckle.

"That's so romantic," he shot back, gesturing over to the familiar piece of furniture in front of the window. "That's almost as romantic as having the desk that we _bonded_ over at college brought back into your office." Playfully he winked at her, and watched her roll her eyes.

"It's a nice piece furniture." After she'd left PPTH six years ago she'd briefly considered getting rid of it. At the time it she'd attempted to blot him out of her consciousness, and her desk held far too many memories that were linked to him for her to take it with her to New York. Eventually she'd decided to put it in storage, and there it stayed until she'd come to re-decorate her office.

"It sure is!" Raising his eyebrows at her daringly, he swore he saw her blush when Gabe interrupted their flirtations.

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

He paused momentarily as if he was considering what he was about to ask, and then took a little breath to steel himself.

"Is it ok if I go home with my Dad?"

Instantly House's jaw hung open, the shock of hearing his son call him that for the first time leaving him dumbfounded. Meanwhile Cuddy looked from her boyfriend and back to her son, a happy smile broadening across her mouth.

"If you're Dad's ok with that, I don't see why not."

Craning his head back, Gabe looked up at his Father searchingly.

"Can we go home now, Dad?"

Still reeling a little, House found himself agreeing automatically.

"Yeah, we can go home."

In that moment, there was little he wanted more.


	18. Chapter 18

_Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favourited and alerted after the last chapter. I always appreciate the fact you take the time to do it. :)_

_I know one or two of you have questions, a couple of which I think I've already answered in some of the early chapters, and some which I'll answer later, but the whole Wilson not leaving House anything in his Will is something that probably does need clearing up. The fact is, with House 'officially' dead, he wouldn't have been able to. I managed to get around that in FWYS by allowing Cuddy to take custody of the money, but that wasn't an option here, and I really wanted him to have been thrown in the deep end to see if he would sink or swim. At the start of this story he was sort of cautiously floating in fairly calm seas after weathering a storm, then Chase knocked on his door and you know the rest._

_Not my show._

* * *

Watching House throw a few of his books into a cardboard box, Cuddy then turned her attention to the foreign territory she currently found herself in. It wasn't what she'd expected at all. Come to think of it she wasn't entirely sure what she had expected of the apartment he'd been living after he came out of prison. It just seemed so impersonal, so clinical, in stark contrast with his old, characterful place that screamed elements of his personality and interests. This space had an aura of loneliness and sadness that she couldn't seem to shake.

"It's kind of weird that you never brought me here until now, when we're moving your stuff out."

"Why?"

"We've been together for months," she shrugged, her hands jamming into her jeans' pockets as she walked towards where he was sitting on the arm of the sofa. "It's customary for a guy to show his girlfriend where he lives when they're dating."

"Why would I when I could hang out at yours? This place is a dump."

Again she looked around the apartment and spotted dishes in the kitchen sink that had probably been there for months, leaving the clean freak in her itching to get stuck in.

"It could have done with a clean now and again, but it's not a dump."

"It's a dump, Cuddy! I was hardly going to bring you here on a hot date." Dropping the book he had in hand straight into the box, he took a deep breath and regarded her pensively. "If you're having second thoughts about us moving in together, I can always see if Chase will put me up until I find a new job."

"Don't be stupid!"

"I'm not being stupid," he countered seriously. If he'd considered the real consequences of telling his boss to go and fuck himself, he might have thought twice. _Perhaps. _"You've been forced into letting me stay at yours, because I can't afford to pay my rent right now."

"You practically live with us anyway!… Sure things have moved forward a little faster than we anticipated, but this was always the plan. We just made it official sooner, rather than later."

"You're sure?"

"Yes!"

"This could go horribly wrong."

In response Cuddy sighed dramatically.

"It's good to know you're so optimistic about our future."

"This is a big step." Nervously he looked away, feeling like the spectre of their past failures was looming over his shoulder. "We were together for longer last time and we didn't get this far… If we argue there's nowhere for either of us to go. I don't like the thought of the kids being stuck in the middle of World War III."

"Then all the more reason for us to behave like the adults in that environment. If we have a problem we talk it through… We're getting better at that." Pulling one hand from her pocket, she cupped his chin and forced him to look at her once more. "You're scared and so am I, but we were going to have to take the plunge some time. In case you haven't noticed, we already have a son together… A son who likes being home schooled by his Dad a little too much for my liking."

"I can't help being an awesome teacher," he retorted proudly, pulling her towards him to sit on his good leg, and then circling his arm around her waist. The night of the incident at the school Gabe had more or less begged them not to send him back there. Even with reassurances that the brothers who'd been bullying him would be dealt with, he'd been inconsolable until they finally agreed to look for a place for him elsewhere. In the meantime, with his newfound freedom during the daytime, House had been entrusted to make sure their son's education kept on ticking over.

"You spent the whole day yesterday teaching him how to play an acoustic version of 'Paint it Black'."

"It's a well-known, scientific fact that playing a musical instrument improves memory and math skills."

"And what about the numerous bottle rockets you both let off in the garden the other day?" she shot back, her raised eyebrows displaying her amused scepticism.

"That was so cool!" House responded overenthusiastically, quickly realising his mistake and backtracking. "And obviously a very important lesson about gravity."

Absently, Cuddy let her fingers trace over the letters on her boyfriend's t-shirt, her mind wandering to something that had been concerning her for a couple of days.

"I think Rachel's feeling a little left out."

"So pull her out of school and I'll teach her until we can find somewhere else for her too." It seemed like a simple solution, and as far as he was concerned the more, the merrier. He actually found he was enjoying himself, a hell of a lot more than stamping books anyway.

"She's settled there and she's got friends… It's not just about the home schooling. It's about Gabe deciding to call you Dad."

"Oh," was all he could manage, frankly because he had no idea what else to say. Perhaps selfishly, he'd been so wrapped up in this development between him and his son that he hadn't really given a second thought to how Rachel would feel about it.

"Yeah, oh."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know," his girlfriend replied honestly. In light of all the other recent upheavals, asking him to think about adopting her was almost definitely a little premature. "Maybe you could just spend a little more time with her? Make her feel less left out?"

"I can do that." It wasn't exactly a bind. In spite of himself, he'd liked her company ever since she was a cheeky three year old who laughed at his silly jokes: Rachel was just an easy kid to be around.

"You know if things keep on working out like this, there's a good chance we might work out too."

"Scary huh?"

"Terrifying!" she responded, a devious grin animating her features as she leant forward and kissed him on the cheek, before once again regarding the room they were sat in. "You must have some happy memories here?"

House shrugged.

"Not really. It was just somewhere to sleep and watch TV after work."

Envisaging him doing exactly that, Cuddy's heart ached for him. Even when things had gotten bad between her and Jonathan, at least she'd had the kids.

"I hate the thought of you being lonely here."

"I got used to it. It was a step-up from a cell where having a little privacy wasn't really an option." Seeing Cuddy's guilt-ridden face fall, House rolled his eyes at her. "Just stop with the personal guilt trip! I went to prison because I deserved to. It was a miracle I didn't end up there years ago."

"But…" she began, only to be cut off immediately.

"But nothing! I was long overdue a reality check… And besides, by some miracle, I still managed to land on my feet with the woman of my dreams."

"I'm the woman of your dreams?" she inquired, unconvinced.

"Well, nearly… Your Mom's already taken so you're the next best thing."

A little disturbed, his girlfriend wrinkled her nose at him.

"You keep up with this fascination with my Mom and I'll start to think you're double-bluffing."

Snorting at the accusation, House nuzzled into her neck and planted a gentle embrace there, his mouth slowly snaking up the side of her face and then hovering next to her ear.

"Fancy making at least one happy memory here?"

"We're supposed to be packing your stuff away."

"It'll take me about ten minutes to put everything I want to keep in this box. Aside from the piano, obviously… Your sister said she'd have the kids all afternoon."

Turning her head to look at him, Cuddy narrowed her eyes and felt herself relenting. With work and family commitments, it'd been a long time since they had the opportunity to have sex on a Saturday afternoon. The prospect sounded a little reckless now that her routine had become so ordered again after going back to work at the hospital, exciting even.

"Fine, but on one condition."

"Name it," he said eagerly, his eyes falling to the gaping neckline of her sweater that was affording him an excellent view of her pert breasts.

"You do exactly what I tell you to."

Immediately House laughed out loud.

"And Madame Whiplash has entered the building!"

Her face not flickering an inch, she continue to observe him.

"That's the deal, House… Alternatively I could just find something to tie you up with, make you watch me get myself off, and then leave you with a hard on whilst I tackle those dishes in the sink."

With his mouth going dry, he gulped. Already he was unbelievably turned on, his groin reacting to the aural stimulus, and they were still fully clothed. In that moment he considered the possibility that Lisa Cuddy had been put on this Earth purely to taunt him for his numerous indiscretions, like a sexy penance for previous misdemeanours.

"That'd be cruel."

"Then make the right choice and I'll make sure we both have a lot of fun." To prove her point, she gripped the side of his face and pulled him into a passionate kiss that left him a little breathless when she finally broke away. "Well?"

After taking a deep breath, House sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and tried to gather his thoughts as her hand fell between his legs, her coy look betraying just how much she was enjoying teasing him.

"As much as I love watching you do the dishes, I think I'm going to opt for mutual gratification… Where do you want me?"

Standing up, Cuddy held her hand out for him to take and walked them over to the bed, her fingers quickly seeking out the hem of his top and pulling it over his head to reveal his bare chest, before following suit with her own sweater and then edging her jeans over her hips so she could slowly peel them down her legs onto the floor. Now freed from them, much to his surprise, she side-stepped around him and crawled onto the bed, flipping onto her back and running the backs of her hands over the navy cover. It was only then that her eyes caught his seductively.

"Did you ever think about this?" she asked brazenly, the lifting of her chin as she regarded the burgeoning tent in his jeans emphasising her audaciousness as she enjoyed the obvious affect she was having on him. "About having me in your bed?"

Still standing in the spot she'd left him, his eyes looking the gorgeous creature sprawled out before him up and down, he nodded. He'd ached for her some nights, as if her absence was akin to a lack of food or water and his body was screaming out for her physical presence to rectify it. Sometimes he despised how weak that made him feel, but not now. Now he was willing to give in to it.

"Of course I did… What about you? Did you think about me?"

For a second she paused to think about her answer, shivering a little as a result of the slight chill in the air.

"Even when I was fucking furious with you." Watching the corner of his mouth curl up into a lop-sided smile, Cuddy curled her finger into a beckoning motion. "Get your ass here now!"

Gleefully doing as he was told for once, House knelt on the bed and crawled towards her, tentatively draping his bad leg over one side of her hips and looking down at her amusedly as he pressed his hands on the pillow either side of her head.

"So do I need to ask permission to take your bra and panties off then?"

"Forget the bra," she barked, reaching out and rubbing her thumb over his lips. "You can forget the smartass comments too, and put your mouth to better use."

"If you wanted me to go down on you, all you had to do was ask."

"I'm not asking, I'm telling!"

Letting the air filter into his lungs, her boyfriend closed his eyes blissfully.

"If you tell me to do twenty clinic hours in that voice, I think it'll probably push me over the edge."

Opening one eye, he looked down and saw her purse her lips.

"You have no idea how close I am to doing the dishes."

Letting out a bemused sigh, he backed down the bed and let his mouth fall to her abdomen, his tongue circling her belly button, before feathering delicate kisses increasingly lower and soon finding himself navigating the black lace of her panties. Slotting his index fingers beneath the elastic, he lifted his head to seek her approval and watched her manoeuvre her legs out from underneath him, allowing him to slide the material down her thighs, along her calfs and off her entirely, before throwing them over the side of the bed.

Newly divested of one item of her underwear, Cuddy bent her knees either side of him and splayed her thighs open further, tucking her hands behind her head as she fully took in the sensation of being so fully appreciated by the man who couldn't seem to snap his gaze away from the aroused centre displayed before him. With their eyes briefly meeting before he craned his head back down to pleasure her, her hips bucked upwards the second his mouth met her glistening core, the exquisite pressure he was exerting on her with his tongue making the breath catch in the back of her throat. Firmly holding her hips down he continued the assault, alternating his focus between her clit and lower, revelling in the sound of her appreciative moans and encouragement. Eventually, when he knew she was close, he renewed his zeal, moving one hand lower and slipping first one, then two of his fingers inside her, quickly nudging her over the edge in a blur shudders, utterances and incantations of his and God's name.

Kissing her on the inside of her thigh affectionately, he moved up the bed again and laid next to her, brushing her hair from her face as she came back down to Earth.

"Was that to Mistress' satisfaction?"

"What do you think?" she said slyly, turning to kiss him and tasting herself in the process. Pressing her forehead against his, she smirked. "Take the rest of your clothes off."

"You're so demanding!"

Gesturing towards the kitchen, she feigned annoyance.

"Those dishes are starting to look inviting again."

Without much hesitation, he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and began to unbuckle his belt, standing up and clumsily leaving his jeans and boxer shorts in a heap on the floor, then eagerly laid back down and held his hand out to steady her as Cuddy swung her leg over his now naked form. Glancing up at her face, he saw a softness there that wasn't present before, perhaps even concern. Something was clearly troubling her.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," she answered distractedly, hesitating a little before going on. "It's just I want you to do something for me."

"Your wish is my command," he chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows at her suggestively. Confusingly she didn't really react.

"I want you to think about going back into medicine."

"You want us to play doctors and nurses?"

"I'm serious, House. I know you miss it."

Completely baffled, he frowned at her.

"And you thought now was the best time to bring it up? When we're about to have sex?"

"I know my timing's not great..."

"Understatement!" he interrupted, silently mourning the impending loss of his erection at the same time as a wave of anger hit him. "I don't even have a medical license! I'm never going to have a medical license again!... Why would you even suggest that as an option?"

Trying to diffuse his irritation, Cuddy ran her fingertips along his chin soothingly. She'd been thinking about this for a while and hadn't had the guts to say anything previously, but with his now altered situation it seemed like the now was the right time to at least sound him out.

"I know things can't go back to exactly how they were, but there are other options?"

"Such as?"

"You were too good a doctor for us to lose your skills entirely… Perhaps some sort of position in research, even teaching, or there might be a way for you to do what you did on Joe's case for Chase."

"You mean consult?... Chase is more than capable of running the Diagnostics department."

"I'm not just talking about at PPTH. There's diagnostic departments all over the country now. There'd always be a case that people would want your advice on."

"I don't want to travel around the country with you and the kids here."

"You wouldn't have to. Seen as you wouldn't be allowed direct access to patients anyway, there'd be nothing stopping you communicating via phone or even Skype… It's like your dream: all the puzzles, without actually having to deal with any of the patients."

"And you actually think anybody would go for this? I have a criminal record."

"I've got contacts, lawyers we could talk to about the legalities, but you're still a bit of a legend in diagnostic circles, and I know you're still capable of saving lives… I just think it's a waste if we don't at least try this."

Considering what she'd said, House's brow furrowed. Going back to the career he'd loved had never seemed like an option before. He'd truly believed he'd burnt his bridges, and now it seemed like she was offering to rebuild them for him. But was that really a good thing? Should he just jettison medicine as a part of his past, and with it all the highs and lows it had given him?

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I wanted," Cuddy said warmly, her smile infectious to him.

"So does that mean we can get back to you screwing my brains out?"

Diffidently his girlfriend leaned lower, her nose so close to his that he could feel her breath on his face, as her eyes appeared to turn a shade darker and burned into his playfully.

"Now who's being demanding?"

* * *

"So what do you think?" House asked, turning to Rachel as he ran his palm along the newly placed piano, a matter of minutes after the removal men had sited it in the corner of the living room where Cuddy had made space for it.

"It's nice, I guess."

"Nice? This little lady is a thing of beauty." Patting the weathered wood as though he was afraid it had heard the less than enthusiastic response, he swivelled on the stool and regarded the girl he'd been left in charge of. Cuddy was right. She didn't seem her usual, cheerful self. Scooting a little along the seat, he tapped the padded leather and gestured for her to come and join him, watching her half-heartedly plonk herself down next to him. "You can have a go if you like."

Confused by the invitation, she frowned.

"I'm allowed to?"

"Sure! What's the point of having a piano if you're not going to play it?"

Tentatively dancing her finger over one of the keys without actually pressing it, Rachel glanced up at him curiously.

"We had one in the apartment in New York… Jonathan wouldn't let us go anywhere near it. He just got the maid to polish it every week."

Unimpressed, House rolled his eyes.

"People shouldn't be allowed any sort of instrument if they're only going to treat it like an ornament." Gently he nudged her with his elbow. "Go on!"

"But I don't know how to play."

"I wasn't expecting Beethoven on your first go," he cracked genially, sensing her unease and seeking to combat it. "It doesn't matter. Everybody's got to start somewhere… Watch!" Exuberantly he ran the backs of his fingers along the length of the keyboard and then looked at her expectantly. "Now you try." Cautiously she copied his movement from as far along as she could reach, a broad smile breaking out across her face as she delighted in the pleasing sound it made. "Fun, huh?"

Happily the young girl agreed, her index and middle finger playing the two keys directly in front of her over a couple of times, before she stopped and fidgeted a little on the stool, something clearly on her mind. Eventually she summoned the courage to spit it out.

"Did Mom take Gabe out to the store and leave us here on purpose?"

"Why would she do that?" House knew that was indeed the case, but playing Devil's advocate would allow her to open up more organically.

"Because I think she thinks I have a problem with Gabe calling you Dad."

"Do you?"

With a shrug of her shoulders, Rachel looked down at her lap dejectedly.

"You are his Dad."

"That's true, but it's not what I was asking."

For what seemed like a long time she didn't respond, the strained expression on her face indicative of the inner bewilderment she was experiencing. It was actually a little hard for House to watch, but he wanted her to articulate her thoughts and feelings in her own time without jumping in too early and putting words into her mouth.

"Have you ever felt like the odd one out?" she asked quietly, her whole body still slumping forward. "Like you were different and that you didn't belong somewhere?"

Not wanting to belittle her situation, House bit back a wry smile.

"Only most of my life."

"I am the odd one out here, aren't I? Gabe's yours and Mom's, and I'm…" She paused for a second to try and find the right word, but couldn't exactly, instead settling for the obvious. "And I'm not."

Resting his head in his hand, he couldn't help but feel awful for her and a little bit guilty that his presence had brought about her crisis of identity. He had to tread carefully. If he didn't, he could make things worse, and then Cuddy would probably put his balls in a vice. She was placing a hell of a lot of trust in him by allowing deal with the situation on his own, but oddly he'd found himself wanting that: to be the man she could trust.

"You know, when your Mom decided to adopt you I was so jealous."

"Why?" she questioned bewilderedly.

"Because up until that point I was like the kid in her life. She ran around after me, cleaned up my messes and saw off all the bullies who wanted me out of my job… Then I saw the way she looked at you, and I knew I'd stopped being her main priority… I was so mad that I started taking bets on how long it would take for her to give you back."

"That's horrible!" Not amused by the revelation, she pouted angrily.

"I know… You got me back when you spewed all over me the first time I held you though."

"You deserved it!" she shot back, annoyance morphing into mirth.

"Harsh, but true." Glancing down at the young lady she'd turned into, House couldn't help but mourn the six years he'd missed out on watching her grow up. "It wasn't until your Mom and I got together that I realised what she saw in you at all… Then it took me losing her and my little, pirate loving buddy, I thought for good, to realise how much I loved having you in my life."

Thinking back to what little she could remember of the time she and her Mom had fled to New York, she had one vivid memory of being curled up against her on the sofa in their first apartment, perhaps a couple of months after they'd gone there, her head resting carefully on her baby bump as her Mother cried and held her tightly. Even as such a little child, instinctively Rachel had known she was crying over House.

"We both missed you… Even though you were an idiot."

Smirking appreciatively at her, House tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out from her pony tail.

"Just because your Mom didn't physically give birth to you, it doesn't mean she doesn't think you're just as special as your brother is."

"But Gabe's smarter than me," she countered. "You're all smarter than me."

"And you're the sanest one out of all us! You had your tenth birthday a few weeks ago and you're probably the most mature person in this family."

Instantly Rachel raised an uncertain eyebrow.

"More mature than Mom?"

"Sometimes? God, yes!"

"If I tell Mom you said that she'll probably…"

"Kick my ass!" he interrupted with a chuckle. "Yeah, I know. I'd like it a lot if you didn't."

"Ok."

Still smirking at her, he inhaled deeply and decided it was time to tell her what he'd been thinking about since Cuddy had spoken to him the day before in his old apartment.

"Just because I'm not your Dad, it doesn't mean I wouldn't be proud if I were… Maybe, at some point in the future, I could take steps to make things official."

Not understanding at first, her whole face changed when she finally figured out what he meant.

"You mean you'd think about adopting me?"

"If that was something you wanted," he responded cautiously, not sure if he'd overstepped the mark. Much to his relief, her mouth ticked upwards into a huge grin.

"That'd be really cool!... But you'd wait until you and Mom got married, right?"

Completely thrown by the assumption House fumbled to give her an answer, offering numerous false starts before the opening of the front door diverted their attention elsewhere. Carrying a cereal box under one arm and a grocery bag in the other, Gabe meandered through the living room in a World of his own as his Mom shouted for help from outside. Dutifully her boyfriend and daughter got up and headed out to the car, the latter grabbing a couple of bags before following in her brother's footsteps, and leaving House staring distractedly at Cuddy as she put various pieces of fruit and veg back into the bag after they'd spilled out during the journey home.

"What's wrong?" she enquired, suddenly conscious of his eyes on her. When he didn't respond she quizzed him again. "House?"

Coming to he blinked as if he'd woken up from a daydream.

"Yeah?"

"Everything ok?"

Grabbing most of the remaining groceries, he nodded a little too emphatically.

"Everything's fine."


	19. Chapter 19

Big thanks to everybody who's continuing to read and review. It's good to know you're still along for the ride! Your thoughts are always welcome. :)

And so we have Blythe… and some drama. :S

Not mine. Still. :(

* * *

With trepidation House patted the lump in his inside jacket pocket for what felt like the hundredth time, and then put his key in the door, slowly stepping inside and then nervously hanging it up in the hall, before following the noise of the kids laughing through the living room, the kitchen and into the dining room. Just as he rounded the corner another familiar voice made him stop in the doorway, Cuddy's eyes meeting his cautiously for a second, before his attention turned to the now frail looking lady sat between Rachel and Gabe, who was turning in her chair to glance behind her at the new arrival.

"Hello Greg!" she said warmly, the smile on her face as pronounced as the sudden uneasiness in the pit of his stomach.

"Hi, Mom."

Over the course of the next couple of hours they ate dinner and the conversation flowed easily enough between the four of them, House only joining in when he was forced to and spending the rest of the time observing the interactions between everyone around him. Rachel was her usual bubbly self, talking about her friends and school; Gabe was shooting questions at Blythe like an AK47, which she was answering with her characteristic grace and mirth, whilst Cuddy admonished her son intermittently, now and again glancing at her boyfriend with increasing concern.

"So Lisa tells me you've gone back to medicine," his Mom eventually commented, pointedly turning the chatter towards him. "She said you're some kind of diagnostic consultant."

"Yup." It'd taken them a few weeks to find Gabe a suitable school, but eventually they'd found one in Trenton that had a programme to cater for exceptionally gifted children. Given the space to think in the interim, House had finally agreed to look into freelancing and Cuddy had swung into action, calling lawyers and her contacts at other hospitals with diagnostic departments to check the viability of the venture. Within a couple of months he was working from home, and had already gotten a couple of cases under his belt.

"I'm thrilled for you son! I know how much you loved your job."

"Really?" he shot back cryptically, his chin falling to rest on the palm of his hand as his fingers drummed on the table.

Confused by the question, the older woman regarded him vacantly.

"Of course I am."

Sensing he wasn't taking the whole surprise visit well, Cuddy looked from House to her son and daughter and decided it was time to get them off to bed so they wouldn't be part of what she feared might ensue.

"Come on guys, it's getting late. Go get changed and brush your teeth… I'll come and see you in a few minutes."

"Do we have to?" her son protested, angry that he couldn't finish the interrogation of this new member of his family that he didn't even feel like he was half way through.

"Gabe it's late. Say goodnight and get ready for bed." His Dad didn't shout to get his point over, but just by looking at him the five year old could tell this wasn't up for discussion. Turning to Rachel he forced a smile. "You too, lady. You're both up past your bedtime."

Reluctantly the two children both got up from their seats and excused themselves, Rachel offering hugs to House and his Mom, whilst Gabe opted for a fist bump with his Dad and then awkwardly held out his hand for Blythe to shake. Bemused she shook it and then happily watched them leave the room, soon reaching out and letting her palm rest over her son's clenched fist.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day you'd have a family, Greg… I'm so pleased you and Lisa sorted things out."

Shaking his head in disbelief, he snorted and removed his hand from underneath hers. The last time he'd heard from her at all was a short letter he'd received whilst in prison, explaining her husband had died of a stroke and that she'd visit him soon. The visit had never come, and neither had any sort of contact until the phone calls had started.

"What are you doing here, Mom?"

"Lisa invited me here."

"Behind my back."

On purpose he glanced at Cuddy disapprovingly and saw her squirm a little guiltily, on the verge of verbally justifying her actions. She hadn't enjoyed keeping it to herself, but this hadn't been some grand plan to get them back in the same room together again. His cell had just happened to ring whilst he was in the bath a couple of days earlier, and she'd answered it. Hearing the woman on the other end explain that she'd been trying to get in touch with House for weeks, but to no avail, Cuddy had been the one to tell her that they were back together and explain rather awkwardly that she had a grandchild. Inviting her over without telling her boyfriend had seemed like a no-brainer. The part of her that knew him well wasn't surprised he'd been avoiding his Mother, God knows she'd been guilty of that herself in the past, but there was another side to her that was hurt. Why wouldn't he want to share something so momentous with the woman who'd brought him into the World?

"Your Mom had a right to meet her grandson, House. Our son had a right to meet his other grandmother too… Unsurprisingly, she wanted to see you as well."

Apparently mulling over what his girlfriend had said, he silently traced his finger over the grain in the mahogany table he was sat in front of, well aware he was being watched like a hawk by her and his Mother.

"Well now we've had this touching family reunion, I'd like you to leave."

Visibly shocked, Cuddy's mouth hung open. He'd been rude to almost everybody he'd ever come into contact with, but she'd never witnessed him be like this with her. Evasion was one thing, but downright offensiveness towards Blythe was both new and unacceptable.

"House! You can't kick your Mom out!"

"I'm pretty sure I can."

Watching everything unfold in front of her, the older lady sighed and began to get up from the table, making the other woman opposite her snap her head back to regard her.

"Where are you going?"

"I didn't intend to come here and start an argument between the two of you," she responded politely. "I think it's best if I try to find a hotel tonight and then travel back home tomorrow."

Vigorously Cuddy shook her head.

"No!... I said you could stay tonight and that's what's going to happen."

"I'm afraid my son's already made his mind up, Lisa."

"Then he can unmake it," she said insistently, quickly shooting him a look that told him she wasn't messing around. Determined to demonstrate he felt the same way, House sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, his jaw flexing as if he was silently taking up a challenge.

"It's kind of hilarious that you're so desperate to have her stay here, so we can be one big, happy family."

"And why's that? Do enlighten me!"

"It's just that when I nearly killed you, our unborn son and the three other people my Mom didn't come rushing to tell me what an asshole I was. No! Instead, Mom of the Year here waited two years to turn up so she could tell me she'd married the guy she'd been having an affair with behind my Dad's back."

"Stop it!" Cuddy warned.

"Why when I'm on a roll?" he exclaimed, his arms flying out to the side exuberantly. "The really funny part is this was the guy I thought might actually be my biological father, but no! Mom was a bit of a party girl, so literally anybody over the age of about eighty-five could be my Dad, which is awesome, right?" Pausing to look at the two stunned women in front of him, now that he'd started he couldn't bring himself to stop. "What really gets me about this whole family gathering, is that here you are organising things behind my back like you're best friends, when a few years ago Mommy dearest was telling me how much she approved of my Green Card marriage. In case we've forgotten that's the woman, who was nearly half my age, who I married to piss you off when you dumped me." Again he stopped and this time turned address his girlfriend directly, his hand gesturing towards the other woman in the room. "And you want this great beacon of moral virtue around the kids?"

A little shaken by the venom in his voice, Cuddy looked away.

"All of that's in the past," she answered quietly and determinedly. "You of all people should know that people make mistakes… Blythe's staying tonight, whether you like it or not."

Not exactly astonished by her stubbornness, House let out a wry chuckle.

"I really should go," his Mom cut in warily.

"No, it's fine!" Abruptly he got to his feet, and slowly began to leave the dining room. "This is her house anyway. You and _Lisa _should paint each other's nails, watch a DVD and compare notes on abusive partners."

Just as he exited the room, he heard Cuddy's voice calling after him irately.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"If she's not leaving then I am," House shouted back. "Don't bother waiting up!"

Seconds later they heard the front door slamming behind him.

* * *

Swigging back a shot of vodka, House watched his cell vibrate along the bar in front of him. Intentionally he'd turned it on its face so he wouldn't see the messages he was being sent, but he knew they were from her and he wasn't ready to face the music on any level yet. When he left he'd got in his car and just driven, eventually finding himself in the biggest dive at the wrong side of town, happy to be only one of only a handful of patrons propping up the bar.

He'd needed time to think.

Seeing his Mom again without forewarning had come as a shock. She had been calling him intermittently for the last few weeks, and each time he'd ignored it in the hope she'd just give up. He had avoided her on numerous occasions in the past, but this time it wasn't just him dodging the inconvenience of her visiting. This time he hadn't wanted her to burst the perfect bubble of near normality he'd been living in with Cuddy and the kids. She was his past; a past that was full of pain, anger and feelings of inadequacy, and he couldn't bring himself to reconcile who he felt he used to be with who he was attempting to be now: someone strong, dependable and above all a good boyfriend and father figure to the two children, who now took up a huge portion of his life. Just as things were looking up with Cuddy, with the kids, with work he'd been thrown a curveball that had cut the wind from his sails, and propelled him back over half a century.

He'd been thinking about his Dad a lot recently. The phone calls from his Mom had no doubt turned his thoughts in that direction, but so had interacting with his own son. In so many ways he'd already let Gabe down, mainly through his enforced absence through his very early formative years, but he was trying and it felt like he was building a real relationship with the boy after such a shaky start. He was starting to be trusted by both children and although that felt like a huge responsibility, something that generally he'd never been fully comfortable with, it was beginning to seem like a precious gift too. Sure, secretly he'd always appreciated the honesty that most kids spouted, but he was never one to fawn over them like so many adults. Nevertheless becoming a parent had changed him. How could it not? Suddenly other people's needs were greater than his own and it was his _duty_ to take care of them, just like it had been the duty of his own parents to do the same for him.

And yet here he was drowning his sorrows on his own.

With guilt pricking at him, he slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small, black leather box he'd been concealing there for the last few hours, tentatively lifting the lid and staring down at the antique sapphire and diamond ring that was glinting back at him. To say tonight hadn't gone to plan was a huge understatement. Ever since Rachel had asked him if he'd wait until he and her Mom got married to go forward with her adoption, the same question had been circling his mind: why rock the boat? Things had been great between them, so why risk jeopardising that? But as time had gone on a contrary voice in his mind had cajoling him into considering the opposite perspective. Why the hell wouldn't he want to marry her? Cuddy was gorgeous, smart, the Mother of his child and one of the few people he could bear spending any amount of time with. Come to think of it, he wanted to spend most of his time with her, and oddly enough she seemed to feel the same way about him. He loved her, and as fickle as he knew that could be as an emotion, what they had seemed to have weathered so many storms that he felt cautiously optimistic that they would last this time; that they'd perhaps grow old together and watch the kids grow up. Moreover the thought didn't fill him with dread. It actually made him happy.

In the ensuing weeks he'd begun searching for the right ring to propose to her with, the memory of the huge rock on the wedding ring he'd found in Cuddy's nightstand making everything he found he could afford seem paltry by comparison, even with the new job. Finally, on the brink of giving up, he'd wandered past an antique shop and seen it, knowing straight away that that was the one. Over the next few days he'd waited to have it resized, and several hours earlier he'd picked it up to take home, rehearsing the various ways he could propose on the drive home after work. Then he'd walked in and found his Mom there….

"Nice ring, dude." Frowning in the direction of the obscure voice to his left, House turned to see a scruffy man stood next to him with a distracting scar adorning his cheek. By his haggard demeanour he seemed older, but was probably only pushing thirty. "That's gonna be one, lucky, lucky lady!"

Not exactly moved by the stranger's platitudes, he sighed.

"What do you want?"

Casually the guy shrugged.

"Me and my friend were just wondering if you had any smokes?"

Looking over his shoulder, House saw the 'friend' in question raising his beer towards him with a self-satisfied grin on his face. Similarly grimy looking, he appeared a little older, but it was hard to tell in the dimly lit environment.

"Sorry, no."

"No problem," the younger man responded with a suspicious amount of enthusiasm, patting him on the back as if he'd known him all his life, before turning on his heel and shouting over his shoulder. "Good luck with that, man."

Glancing back at the jewellery in the box in front of him, House mumbled a "thanks" and snapped the lid shut, quickly placing it back in his pocket. After a couple of minutes of soul-searching, he grabbed his phone off the bar and flicked through his messages, one text after another tracking his girlfriend's gradual change of tone from anger to concern, starting from a few minutes after he'd gone.

_You are unbelievable!_

Half an hour later….

_Very mature, House. I suppose all of this is my fault?_

An hour after that…

_Just tell me you're ok. Your Mom's gone._

Twenty minutes ago…

_I'm sorry I sprang this on you. Just come home so we can talk. I'm worried… I love you. X_

Taking a deep breath of air, House threw his head back and resolved it was time to go home. This whole thing was stupid. He was too old to drink himself into oblivion every time something didn't go his way. He was a dad, and hopefully soon enough a husband. People with the kind of responsibilities he had didn't just run away to sulk. They faced their problems head on.

Sliding off the stool, he grabbed his things and hobbled a little more labouredly than usual out of the bar, the influence of the alcohol in his system taking its toll. Deciding to call a cab when the night air hit him, as he lifted his cell to dial the number, he felt a force from behind him barrel him into the nearby alleyway. Confused, he managed to turn and saw the two men from the bar staring back at him, their mouth curled into confrontational snarls.

"Empty your pockets!"

Shaking his head angrily, House glowered back, outraged that they had the gall to even attempt this.

"Go fuck yourselves!"

Watching the older one of the two slowly pull his hand from his jacket pocket, a glint of metal flashed in the available light, instantly making his heart race.

"I said empty your fucking pockets!"

Menacingly the one with the scar took a step forward, things beginning to slow down for House as if he was watching a surreal tableau from afar, rather than being stuck bang in the middle of it. _This couldn't be happening._ Tightly gripping his cane until his knuckles went white, he found his mouth opening to speak before his brain had caught up.

"And I told you to go and fuck yourselves!"


End file.
